


a two-man team

by Idnis



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, Bake Sale, Erik is a kindergarten teacher, Fluff and Humor, Kid Fic, Kindergarten, M/M, Nicky is a single dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idnis/pseuds/Idnis
Summary: Nicky falls in love with the cute new kindergarten teacher. Or, basically,"Nicky stares at Mr. Erik with his mouth open."





	a two-man team

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carminesunset](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminesunset/gifts).

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> This is written for the aftgexchange for Izzy! One of the prompts was "kid!fic" and I was immediately sold. I hope you like it, and that it's sorta what you hoped for :D ♡ 
> 
> A quick and mushy thank you to [andrewspipedream](https://andrewspipedream.tumblr.com/) and [ClockworkDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDragon) for being absolute fantastic and beta'ing this fic on such a short notice!!
> 
> Without further ado, I present you... nerik. *jazz hands

Nicky’s every day starts with forcing himself to get out of bed, quickly pulling on the outfit he picked the night before, and trying to make breakfast _ and _ lunch before Hugo wakes up.   
  
Just because he has a kid,   
doesn’t mean he can’t be organized and stylish about it.  
  
Everyone who knew him two years ago knew there was a dark, dark year where Nicky wore the same sweatpants for weeks on end until Allison quite literally cut them to pieces while they were still on his body.  
  
Nicky still had nightmares.  
  
_ Anyway_. That’s all in the past now.  
  
Nicky pulls on his dark blue jeans along with a white and green striped shirt and sneaks downstairs.  
The house is quiet.   
They feel almost sacred, these few minutes in the morning where everything is completely silent.  
  
Sometimes Nicky pretends he’s living alone, that he’s just like any other 25 year old,  
but he always feels guilty after.  
  
“Nicky?” Hugo appears in the doorway just as Nicky closes the lid on Hugo’s lunch box. “Is breakfast ready?”  
  
“It is, but I can see that _ you’re _ not. You forgot to put on your socks.”  
  
Hugo pulls a face. “I don’t want to wear socks.”  
  
They’re in a Phase right now.  
It’s called, apparently, Socks Are The Enemy.  
  
“Not even the ones with little pineapples?” Nicky asks.  
  
Predictably, Hugo hesitates. They’re his favourite socks. 

Or the nicest bad guys, at least.  
  
“Yeah, that’s right,” Nicky says, laughing. “They just got out of the wash. Fresh pineapples, Hugo. Think about it.”  
  
While Hugo’s little face twists with doubt, Nicky puts a glass of orange juice and a bowl of yoghurt and fruit on the table.  
  
“Breakfast’s ready, nene. Come sit down.”  
  
“No.” Hugo shakes his head quickly. “I’ll put on socks first.”  
  
Nicky laughs.  
It’s always a good day when he wins the sock battle.  
  
Nicky’s story, however, doesn’t start that morning.  
  
You could argue that love is in no way the beginning of your _ real _ life or your _ real _ you,  
but for Nicky,   
meeting Erik was one of the most important moments in his life.  
  
🧦  
  
It’s busy on the way to school, and after an unfortunate traffic jam, Nicky doesn’t have time to say goodbye to Hugo, aside from giving him a kiss on his black hair and telling him to behave.  
  
At the end of the day, when they’re sitting together at the dinner table, talking about their day, Hugo says, “We have a new teacher.”  
  
“Oh? Are they nice?”  
  
“Yeah,” Hugo says. “Mr. Erik climbs mountains and drinks goat milk.”  
  
Immediately, the image of a rough and bearded mountain man fills Nicky’s mind.   
The fact that he’s not wearing a shirt is totally because it adds to the ruggedness.  
Anyone who can climb a mountain can handle the forces of nature shirtless.  
  
“He sounds… tough.”  
  
“I don’t know if Mr. Erik is tough,” Hugo says slowly. “But he’s cool! He let us sing three songs this morning!”  
  
Strapped over mountain man’s naked and hairy chest is now a guitar,  
looking well-loved,  
like the man knows how to handle his… _ instruments_.  
  
“Ah,” Nicky says. “Guess I’ll see him tomorrow morning.”  
  
Hugo merely puts another potato wedge in his mouth.  
  
🧦  
  
The next morning, Hugo is in a mood.   
  
Nicky had to force socks onto him, which caused Hugo to scream bloody murder because no way was he wearing _ white _ socks.  
Now, he’s sitting next to Nicky in the car with his little arms crossed, stubbornly looking out the window.  
  
“Are you going to introduce me to Mr. Erik?” Nicky asks.  
  
Hugo doesn’t respond until Nicky parks the car near the school and he sees all his friends walking towards the big red brick building.  
  
“Come on!” Hugo says excitedly, grabbing Nicky’s hand and pulling him towards the doors. “Let’s meet Mr. Erik!”  
  
It’s like walking through a hobbit village.  
Even though it’s been years, Nicky still finds the small coat racks, chairs and tables utterly adorable.   
  
What’s less adorable,  
are the screaming children and angry parents.  
  
Especially —  
_ Ah_, there she is.  
  
Margaret.  
  
“Good morning, Margaret,” Nicky says, forced.  
  
Margaret pushes a blonde curl behind her ear because she’s a fake modest bitch. “Morning, Nicky.” She bends down. “Good morning, Hugo. You’re looking a little pale today. Did you eat your breakfast?”  
  
See?  
Bitch.  
  
“Yes, I had fresas for breakfast,” Hugo says proudly.  
  
Margaret’s eyebrows raise. “What’s that? Something ethnic?”  
  
Hugo shakes his head. “They’re strawberries.”  
  
Margaret straightens and gives Nicky a look that reeks of pity. “He still has trouble learning English?” she asks fake-gently.  
  
Nicky would like to fake-gently slap her.  
  
“No, not at all,” Nicky says with a smile. “He was born here, Margaret. He’s learning Spanish because his parents were Spanish, right, Hugo?”  
  
But Hugo is already distracted by Margaret’s adorable daughter, Taylee.  
Or was it spelled Tay-lee?  
Nicky can never remember these white names.  
  
It’s a lie.  
He can.  
He just wants to bitch about it because Margaret is stupid.  
  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nicky,” Margaret says, acting all concerned like her acrylic nails broke. “He lives in _ America _ after all.”  
  
Before Nicky can shove her into the cute little coat racks,  
the door to Hugo’s class opens,  
and an attractive man smiles down at the little hobbits and Hugo.  
  
“Good morning class,” he says.  
  
“Good morning Mr. Erik!” they all shout.  
  
Mr. Erik laughs,  
and it sounds fucking fantastic.  
  
“I see you remembered my name.”  
  
Nicky stares at Mr. Erik with his mouth open.  
  
Apparently, mountain man isn’t shirtless.  
He’s wearing a shirt, a button-up, and some khakis that should make him look kind of dorky but because he’s tucked them into brown hiking boots, he just looks… _ climbable_.  
Ha.  
_ Ha_.  
Genius.  
  
As the kids walk in, Mr. Erik greets them all.   
  
When it’s Hugo’s turn, Mr. Erik highfives him and says, “Hola, Hugo.”  
  
Nicky melts just a little.  
Okay, a lot.  
  
Nicky takes a step forward, because maybe if he’s close enough he will know if mountain man really smells like nature, well-loved guitars and goats,   
but then Margaret steps in front of Nicky, rapidly batting her store-bought lashes.  
  
“Good _ morning_,” she says in a voice that sounds like she’s having trouble breathing. “On behalf of all the parents, I’d very much like to welcome you to Logan Elementary school. I’m Taylee’s mom.”  
  
“Thank you, Mrs. Young. I feel very welcomed here,” Mr. Erik smiles.  
  
Margaret smiles back. “Call me Margaret, please.”  
  
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to begin the lesson. You know how children get when you leave them alone for too long.”  
  
“Yes,” Margaret laughs. “Especially some of the boys.”  
  
She glances at Nicky when she says this,  
as if her precious Taylee wasn’t also covered in clay and finger paint that one time.  
  
“I find that girls can be just as messy,” Mr. Erik answers pleasantly.  
  
He sweeps his beautiful blue eyes over the rest of the parents dawdling near the classroom, giving them all a friendly smile.   
And then his eyes land on Nicky.  
  
Nicky swears he can hear joyous goats bleating in the background when their eyes meet.  
It’s like the earth stops.  
It’s like one of those moments in life where you see something breathtaking and the entire world freezes for a few seconds as you take it all in.  
  
But then Mr. Erik breaks their eye contact, turns around and closes the door behind him.  
Totally unaware of the effect he’s had on Nicky.  
  
Damn.   
  
“Oh, wow,” Margaret sighs all in love, interrupting Nicky’s moment of revelation.  
  
“You’re married, Margaret,” Nicky hisses.  
  
She turns to him. “What did you say?”  
  
Nicky blinks innocently. “I meant, you’re not hurried this morning, Margaret? Oh, wait, that’s right, I forgot. You quit your job, didn’t you?”  
  
Margaret narrows her eyes. “Then why are you still here, Nicky? They didn’t fire you, did they?”  
  
Nicky looks at the clock and sees that he’s almost spectacularly late.  
  
_ Shit_.  
  
“Nope,” he says, forcing a smile on his face even though he’s stressed because damn, Margaret will never see him _ weak_. “In fact, I think I’m getting promoted soon.”  
  
Total lie.  
He’s not doing badly, but marketing is a cutthroat world. He needs a bigger project to succeed before he’ll be considered for promotion.   
  
Not that Margaret knows that.  
To her, marketing is probably creating a Pinterest board.  
  
When she hears Nicky’s lie, Margaret’s face pinches. The reaction is satisfying enough for Nicky to turn on his heel and firmly walk out of Hobbiton.  
  
Only when the school doors close behind him does he sprint to his car, fumbling with his keys and chanting, “ _ Shit, shit, shit_.”  
  
🧦  
  
At the end of the day, tired and wrung out by work, Nicky doesn’t really think as he drives to Logan Elementary school. All he wants is a nice cuddle from Hugo and a glass of wine after dinner.  
  
Well.   
What he _ really _ wants is someone who will put Hugo to bed before taking _ Nicky _ to bed.   
Or just cuddle with him on the couch with said glass of wine.  
Maybe watch a romcom.  
  
Nicky sighs as he parks the car near the school.   
It’s already busy. He’s late.  
  
In fact, it’s surprisingly busy.  
Nicky watches an abnormal amount of moms fix their makeup or hair in their rearview mirror before strutting towards the school building.  
  
And then it hits him.  
  
_ Mountain man_.  
  
Nicky quickly flips down his car mirror and takes a look at himself.  
_ Yikes_.   
Exhaustion is written all over his face.  
  
Still, he tries to fix himself a little; brush through his hair with his fingers, dab a little highlight on his cheekbones, put on some lip balm and spritz a little perfume on himself.  
  
It’s futile though.  
Because it’s so fucking busy in front of Hugo’s classroom that Nicky has to actually shout for Hugo.  
It doesn’t work and to his horror, Nicky sees that Hugo’s eyes are starting to water while he looks around and can’t find Nicky.  
  
“I’m here, Hugo!” Nicky shouts, elbowing the crazy moms out of the way as he makes his way over.  
  
The moms are strong though. They barely budge when Nicky tries to squirm past them. It feels like a warzone, and not a pleasant one at that. The smell of perfume is nearly overwhelming.  
  
But then Nicky stumbles through the mom mass and quickly runs over to Hugo. He crouches in front of him. “Hugo, nene, I’m here.”  
  
Hugo looks at his feet when he mumbles, “I thought you forgot me.”  
  
It damn near breaks Nicky’s heart hearing those words.  
  
Because it’s so similar to Hugo’s confusion all those years ago, on that one awful night where he thought his parents had forgotten him.  
Had abandoned him.  
  
“I would never, baby,” Nicky says, wrapping his arms around Hugo and pulling him close into a tight, tight hug. “I love you very much, you know that right?”  
  
Hugo nods into Nicky’s shoulder, then slowly lets go of Nicky’s shirt.  
  
“You’re very good with him,” a warm voice says above them.  
  
Nicky looks up into the eyes of perfection itself.  
  
Even though there are shrieking hobbits and pushing moms around them, in that moment, Nicky can only stare at Mr. Erik as he smiles down at Nicky.  
  
For once,  
there’s not a single thought in Nicky’s mind.  
  
He just stares and stares and stares,  
until Margaret rudely moves in front of him, a tray filled with muffins in her hands.  
  
Fuck, the muffins actually smell good.  
  
“I know we already welcomed you yesterday, but I wanted to give you a proper welcome!” Margaret exclaims too loudly. “This is how we do it in _ my _ neighbourhood. With homemade sweets.”  
  
On any other day, Nicky would take the bait and tell her how _ he _ would welcome Mr. Erik,   
but not when Hugo is still looking a little overwhelmed.  
  
Nicky brushes his finger against Hugo’s cheek. “Shall we go, amigo?”  
  
Hugo nods and grabs Nicky’s hand.  
  
Surprisingly, the way back is a lot easier, and his prime spot near Mr. Erik is quickly taken by another mom.  
  
And yes,  
Nicky does feel better when he sees the other moms giving Margaret the stink eye too.  
  
🧦  
  
It’s like this for two weeks at least.  
  
Mountain man—Mr. Erik—immediately gets swamped by the other moms as soon as he appears.  
  
It’s sad, but in a way it’s also better, Nicky thinks.  
  
Pining from afar is something he knows how to do,  
so it’s achingly familiar in a way.  
  
In a way,  
because this isn’t normally where he finds attractive men, _ and _ he usually doesn’t share his crush with 20 middle-aged mothers.  
  
In a way,  
because it’s awful that he actually _ agrees _ with Margaret when, the day Mr. Erik wears a white button-up that is a little too tight, she comments on how it should be forbidden to be that fine.   
  
The words sound ridiculous out of her mouth,  
but Nicky wholeheartedly agrees.   
And that’s just not right.  
  
The third week, Nicky has a dinner meeting-ish thing, so Andrew and Neil volunteered to pick Hugo up from school.  
  
Nicky immediately misses not seeing Mr. Erik’s warm smile.  
The days where he makes brief eye contact are amazing, but the days where Mr. Erik actually smiles at him are just _ sublime_.  
  
After hours of decent food and boring conversation topics, Nicky goes home.  
  
The living room lights are still on, and it’s where he finds Neil and Andrew watching a quiz show on TV.  
  
“Hey guys, how was it?”  
  
“Easy,” Neil says. “We thought Hugo had talked himself tired at dinner, but he still wanted to play some Exy in the garden. I gave him a bath after, and he went to sleep almost immediately.”  
  
That sounded like a normal Hugo evening, yes.  
Except for the playing Exy part.  
  
“Thank you,” Nicky smiles. He joins them on the couch and tiredly undoes his shoes.  
  
“You didn’t tell us about Hugo’s teacher,” Andrew says.  
  
“Mountain—Mr. Erik?” Nicky corrects himself. “There’s, uh, nothing to tell.”  
  
“He’s gay.”  
  
Nicky laughs nervously. “What?”  
  
“Have you made a move on him?” Andrew asks without blinking.  
  
Nicky tries to do the not-blinking thing also,  
but he fails miserably as all the late night fantasies about mountain man flash through his mind.  
  
And there are a lot.  
  
“Uhhhh,” Nicky says, trying to wish away the image of Mr. Erik half-naked on his desk. “Do you— Wait, wait. Mr. Erik isn’t gay. How did you even...?”  
  
Andrew shrugs.  
  
“He did ask for you,” Neil says. “I don’t know if he’s gay, but he wanted to know if something was wrong.”  
  
Nicky’s eyes go wide. “And what did you say?”  
  
“That you had to work late.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
It’s true, but.   
It just sounds so boring.  
It would’ve sounded way more interesting if Nicky had been abroad for a big client, or if he’d been, like, invited to an important party.  
  
_ But Mr. Erik asked why Nicky wasn’t there. _  
  
It’s nearly as rewarding as one of his smiles.  
  
🧦  
  
“Buenos días, Hugo,” Mr. Erik says as Nicky and Hugo walk towards the classroom.  
  
“Buenos días, Mr. Erik,” Hugo waves.  
  
It’s too frickin’ cute.  
  
“Good morning,” Nicky says. “Just wanted to say thank you for checking up on who picked Hugo up yesterday. For all you know they were kidnappers or something.”  
  
There’s a moment of silence.  
  
Nicky laughs awkwardly while Mr. Erik just stares at him,  
and it’s at that moment that Nicky realizes this is the first thing he’s ever said to the man.  
  
“But they’re not,” he adds quickly. “Andrew is my cousin, and Neil is his boyfriend. I mean, obviously I’m hoping for a wedding because it would be the perfect excuse to get a good suit. Everyone looks good in a suit.” Mr. Erik blinks. “I mean I hope I look good in a suit,” Nicky laughs awkwardly. “Yeah…”  
  
Mr. Erik’s stunned silence is luckily broken by Hugo, looking up at them both with curious eyes. “What are you talking about?”  
  
Nicky lets out a nervous laugh. “I’m making a fool of myself, nene.”  
  
“Oh,” Mr. Erik says, and he makes the word sound so beautiful. “Tha —”  
  
But he gets interrupted by the human embodiment of an air horn,  
loud and full of compressed air.  
  
“Good morning, Erik!” Margaret nearly pushes Hugo aside to stand in front of Mr. Erik. And she most _ definitely _ pushes Nicky aside. “Oh my, you’re breaking out the teal? How daring.”  
  
Mr. Erik looks down at his shirt with what looks like regret.  
  
Nicky snorts before he can help himself.   
At the sound, Mr. Erik looks up and gives him a lopsided smile that is Nicky’s new favourite thing in the world. Aside from Hugo.   
  
“I thought it was a green shirt.”  
  
Oh.  
Nicky’s heart sinks.  
  
“Nonsense,” Margaret exclaims. “That’s definitely teal. I know my colours, Erik.”  
  
“I’d never guess,” Nicky says, eyeing her beige and white clothes.  
  
From the corner of his eye, he can see Mr. Erik hide a smile behind his hand.  
  
“Well,” Margaret says slightly annoyed as she smooths down her cardigan. “We can’t all pull off flamboyant, Nicky.”  
  
Nicky’s mouth nearly falls open.   
  
_ The fucking nerve_.  
  
He’s wearing a yellow sweater and striped pants.  
It’s _ fashionable, _ bitch.  
  
But that’s not the kind of thing you’re allowed to say in hobbiton, even though Nicky wants to so badly he’s already opening his mouth.  
  
But then Hugo says, “Bye Nicky” and runs off, and Nicky’s angry mood is momentarily broken.  
  
“Okay,” Nicky mumbles. “Message received.”  
  
Inside the classroom, the kids are slowly rearranging the furniture,   
and Nicky has to laugh as he sees Hugo help his friend Stephen move the teacher’s chair towards the back of the class.  
  
Meanwhile, Mr. Erik is still held up by Margaret talking his ears off about clothes and colours.  
  
Nicky allows himself a final look,  
one final _ yearning _ stare at Mr. Erik’s slightly tousled blond hair,  
at the slight stubble on his chin that Nicky wants so badly to feel dragging over his own skin,  
and then he turns around and walks back to his car.  
  
🧦  
  
All the way to work,  
Nicky sings loudly along with his radio.  
  
He hopes that if he’s loud enough,  
he’ll drown out his own disappointment.  
  
_ I thought it was a green shirt_.  
  
🧦  
  
After school,   
Hugo takes 5 minutes to undo the laces on his shoes, allowing Nicky to quickly check if he still has wine in the house for his pity party tonight.  
  
From the hallway, he can hear Hugo running around on bare feet before he bursts into the living room with a piece of paper in his hand.  
  
“Did you draw something for me?” Nicky asks.  
  
“No,” Hugo says, pushing the paper in Nicky’s hands. “You need to come to school.”  
  
Nicky’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Did I do something wrong?”   
  
Wait.   
That’s not how this works.   
  
“Did _ you _ do something wrong?”  
  
“_No_!” Hugo exclaims, before running off towards his Lego. Or crayons.  
  
Extremely curious, Nicky opens the paper.   
His heart immediately skips a beat.  
  
It’s the moment he’s been waiting for.  
  
_ Parents’ evening_.  
  
🧦  
  
“Why are you freaking out so much?” Neil asks curiously.  
  
He’s sitting on Nicky’s bed because Andrew was tired of judging Nicky’s outfits, and Neil said he didn’t mind.  
He’s the worst help though.   
He says everything looks _ fine_.  
  
“Because even though mountain man isn’t gay, I still need to make a good impression,” Nicky says, nearly nose to nose with his mirror as he quickly brushes through his eyebrows one more time.  
  
“He’s not gay? Andrew was pretty sure he was.”  
  
“He’s not. He didn’t know his teal.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Nicky leans back and observes himself in the mirror. He went for grey jeans and a black shirt; something simple yet slightly business-like to show that he’s capable, mature, and that he knows his business?  
  
“Neil?” Nicky turns around. “How do I look?”  
  
“Good,” Neil says. “But the other outfits were also good.”  
  
“I want to look more than just _ good_.”   
  
Nicky spins around and quickly brushes his hands through his hair again.  
  
“I don’t know, Nicky,” Neil says. “I don’t know a lot about the gay community, but I don’t think knowing “your teal” says anything about your sexuality.”  
  
Nicky opens his mouth to argue that in fact it _ does _ when Andrew calls out, “It’s 7.”  
  
“Shit,” Nicky says, running to his bag. “I’m late.”  
  
“Good luck,” Neil calls after him.  
  
🧦  
  
To say that he’s nervous is an understatement.  
  
To be alone in a room with mountain man?  
So far that has only happened in Nicky’s dreams.   
God, what should he do when mountain man starts undressing? Should he hop onto the desk or demand they take it to his car?  
  
Nicky shakes his head. “Unlikely, Hemmick.”  
  
He parks the car and looks at himself in the rearview mirror one more time before resolutely getting out.  
  
The school looks different in the evening, even though the lights are on and there’s still plenty of people around because it’s parent’s evening in every class.  
  
Though if you compare it to what the school is like during the day, it’s definitely _ deserted _ around Hugo’s classroom.  
  
Nicky brushes his hands through his hair again.  
Not because he’s nervous.  
He’s just giving it that sexy, tousled look.  
  
Around him, he can hear the muffled voices of parents talking with teachers about their demon spawn.  
  
And for a wild second, he realizes how everyone here probably had to arrange a babysitter, had to reschedule plans, maybe had a minor freakout of their own about what to wear and how they wanted to present themselves to the teacher.  
For a wild second, Nicky realizes everyone here has their own life,  
yet they’re all here tonight.  
  
The door to Hugo’s classroom opens then,  
and the reason why Nicky’s here tonight is dressed in a white button-up, black jacket and jeans,   
looking like he came straight out of a Disney movie.  
  
Which kinda makes sense.  
The princes in Disney movies are never gay.  
  
“Mr. Hemmick?” mountain man says, his blue eyes all kinds of gorgeous as he looks at Nicky.  
  
“That’s me,” Nicky says. “And you must be Mr. Erik.”  
  
Mr. Erik smiles. “That’s what they call me around here.”  
  
He opens the door wider to let Nicky in, and Nicky has to remind himself to breathe as he follows him into the classroom.   
  
Mr. Erik knows how to look good in a pair of jeans, alright.  
  
“Take a seat, Mr. Hemmick.”  
  
There’s a normal sized chair in front of the desk, thank god.   
Nicky wouldn’t have known how to make a good impression folded into a hobbit chair.  
  
He sits down opposite Mr. Erik  
and stares.  
It must’ve been too intense, because Mr. Erik’s cheeks seem to colour slightly and he coughs. “Uh, how nice of you to come here tonight, Mr. Hemmick.”  
  
“Oh, you can call me Nicky.”  
  
“Well then, Nicky. Thank you for coming tonight.”  
  
The words are sweet, sweet vindication,  
because Mr. Erik refused to call Margaret by her name.  
  
“It’s no problem, honestly,” Nicky says. “I just hope Hugo isn’t in any trouble.”  
  
“Oh, he’s not. He’s very eager to learn, and usually pays attention in class.”  
  
“...But?”  
  
Mr. Erik leans forward. “Nicky, may I ask you a personal question?”   
  
_ Yes, of course I’ll marry you. _  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“What does Hugo call you?”   
  
The question takes Nicky by surprise.  
But not as much as his own realisation.  
  
“Uh, he doesn’t really call me anything? Sometimes Nicky, sometimes amigo if he’s feeling playful, but he usually just gets straight to the point.”  
  
“Mhm.” Mr. Erik nods thoughtfully. He reaches into his drawer and retrieves a drawing. It’s a crayon drawing from Hugo; Nicky recognises his artistic skills instantly.  
  
There’s two stick figure people with funky hair on the drawing. They’re standing next to a house with a chimney that looks like a flat, and they’re holding hands.  
  
“Oh, I wonder if I’m the one with the Grease hair or the curls,” Nicky says, leaning closer as he observes the figures.  
  
Mr. Erik laughs quietly. “Probably the curls,” he says, and when Nicky looks up in surprise, Mr. Erik seems to realise what he said as he quickly adds, “If you could look at the title of the drawing?”  
  
Nicky does.  
It says _ mY FaWily. _ _  
_ _  
_ Nicky’s chest feels tight and he has to blink a few times to hold in his tears. “Oh.”  
  
“I asked the class to draw their families. It’s a great way for me to know how they see their home situation, and who matters to them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not showing you this drawing because I think Hugo doesn’t see you as family, I think he very clearly does. He immediately took a few crayons and started drawing. The issue was when I asked the class to write above each person on the drawing who they were.”  
  
Nicky looks at the drawing.  
Now that he looks more closely, he can see in tiny letters the word _ hugo _ written above the figure with the Grease hair.  
  
There’s nothing above the other figure.  
  
“It seems Hugo doesn’t know what to call you,” Mr. Erik says gently.  
  
Nicky is speechless for a few seconds.  
  
With the stress of adjusting to a new life— No, of trying to give Hugo the best life possible while also staying somewhat sane himself, Nicky hadn’t realised maybe Hugo was still unsure about certain things.  
  
That maybe certain things still needed to be said out loud.  
  
“I had no idea,” Nicky murmurs.  
  
“The fact that you’re on this drawing tells me Hugo already thinks of you as his family. That’s a very good thing, Nicky.”  
  
“But I don’t know how I could have missed this,” Nicky says, staring at the two stick figures on the drawing. The image Hugo has of them.   
  
For some reason, it hits a certain place within him,  
a place he’s been hiding with glasses of wine, indulgent chocolate cakes and splurging on a new shirt.  
  
“I’ve tried so hard to make Hugo comfortable with his new life,” Nicky says, and fuck his voice is shaking. “To be able to give him all the new toys and new clothes and that pineapple backpack, even though Dan warned me that kids have phases all the time so he probably won’t want it when he’s out of the pineapple phase again.”  
  
Something wet travels down Nicky’s cheeks,   
and with a start he realizes he’s crying.  
  
Crying in front of Hugo’s teacher.  
  
Nicky quickly wipes his tears away. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he laughs awkwardly. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”  
  
All the thought he put into his clothes is all for nothing now that he’s having a fucking breakdown in front of Mr. Erik.  
  
But.  
  
“I do,” Mr. Erik says gently. He reaches across the desk and puts his hand on top of Nicky’s. “You’ve been trying so hard, for Hugo, that you didn’t take any time to process what happened.”  
  
It feels like the truth.  
  
But more than that, it feels so, _ so_, nice to be understood,   
to be seen,  
and to be heard,  
that more tears fall over Nicky’s cheeks before he can wipe them away.  
  
“Raising a child is hard,” Mr. Erik says. “But you’ve been wonderful, Nicky, honestly. I can see what a good kid Hugo is.”  
  
“Some days he doesn’t wear socks,” Nicky sniffles. “Because he doesn’t want to put them on.”  
  
“If that’s the worst, you can most _ definitely _ give yourself a compliment. In my opinion, socks aren’t the most important item of clothing.”  
  
Nicky laughs through his tears. “You’re right.”   
  
“But I do hate how it feels to wear shoes without socks,” Mr. Erik admits. “So maybe they’re a little important.”  
  
“Sneaker socks are kind of uncomfortable too,” Nicky says, wiping away his tears.  
  
“Right? I’ve given up on those.”  
  
Nicky looks at Mr. Erik,  
and after a second, they both start smiling.  
  
“Thank you,” Nicky says. “You’re very good at consoling a stressed-out, uh…”  
  
“Parent?” Mr. Erik suggests.  
  
Because it _ is _ a suggestion.  
  
It’s something Nicky could call himself, something Nicky could be for Hugo.  
  
_ Bullshit_, Nicky thinks. _ It’s what I’ve been for two years now_.  
  
So he says, “Yeah.”  
  
Mr. Erik smiles. “You deserve someone who listens to you, Nicky.”  
  
It’s unfair how Nicky’s heart stutters,  
like it’s also trying to catch its breath.  
  
Feeling kind of shy all of a sudden, Nicky looks down,  
and that’s when he notices he’s still clutching Hugo’s drawing  
and Mr. Erik’s hand is still on top of his.  
  
At the same time, Mr. Erik notices too,  
because he takes his hand back almost awkwardly.  
  
“So now that we’ve got the heavy stuff out of the way, is there anything else you wanted to talk about, Mr. Erik?” Nicky says, trying to go for a lighthearted tone. Trying not to sound like he can still feel Mr. Erik’s hand on top of his.  
  
“Oh, call me Erik.”  
  
Oh.  
_ Oh_.  
  
Achievement un-fucking-locked.  
  
“Okay,” Nicky smiles. “Anything else you wanted to talk about, Erik?”  
  
For some reason, Erik stares at him for a second too long, like he’s almost taken aback by the question. Then he snaps out of it. Sort of.  
  
“No, uh, no, that’s most of it, I think. I did want to give you a list of events we’ve got planned for the next couple of months.”  
  
As Erik searches through the drawer, Nicky looks down at the drawing one more time.  
  
“Can I take this with me?” he asks.  
  
“Huh?” Erik looks up. “Oh, yeah, definitely. It might be a good one for on the refrigerator.”  
  
Nicky smiles. “Like a daily reminder.”  
  
“Exactly,” Erik says softly.  
  
🧦  
  
There’s a very rare sight waiting for Nicky when he gets back.  
  
Normally, he finds Neil conked out on the couch while Andrew is absent-mindedly watching a TV show.  
This time, however, it’s Andrew who’s fallen asleep, his head on Neil’s legs and Neil’s hands combing through his hair.  
  
Nicky’s entire being itches to take out his phone and take a photo,  
but he knows he’ll never get away with it so instead he just burns the sight into his mind.  
  
“How was it?” Neil whispers, when Nicky sneaks closer.  
  
“Good, good,” Nicky whispers back. “We talked about Hugo and then I cried.”  
  
Neil nods,  
then seems to realize what Nicky said.  
  
His hand stills. “What?”   
  
Nicky gives him a thumbs up and mouths, “No big deal.”  
  
“What?” Neil repeats, but Nicky waves away Neil’s very touching concern and slowly backs out of the living room.  
  
“Going to bed,” Nicky whispers, still walking backwards so Neil can see that he’s totally fine. He’s walking backwards, see? That’s quirky. That’s something quirky people do.  
  
His walk doesn’t seem to work, because Neil is still frowning at him, but that’s alright.   
  
Nicky is, as Neil so famously puts it, _ fine_.  
  
🧦  
  
He’s not.  
  
That night, hours after Neil and Andrew left, Nicky stares at his ceiling.  
  
_ Shit, shit, shit_.  
_ I cried in front of Hugo’s teacher. _  
  
🧦  
  
“What’s that?” Hugo asks, pointing at the fridge.  
  
“The only good thing coming out of parents’ evening,” Nicky sighs, taking a large drink of his coffee.  
  
He needs it this morning.  
  
“What?” Hugo asks, confused.  
  
“It’s your drawing, nene,” Nicky says. “Remember?”  
  
“Oh!” Hugo quickly finishes his breakfast and walks over to the fridge. “That’s my family drawing.”  
  
“Yeah, I wanted to talk about it before you go to school, if that’s okay?”  
  
Hugo nods, so Nicky walks over and takes the drawing. He places it on the table and gestures for Hugo to join him.  
  
“Hugo,” he says. “I noticed you didn’t write anything above me.”  
  
Hugo doesn’t meet Nicky’s eyes as he nods quietly.  
  
“Can you explain why?”  
  
Hugo starts fiddling with his fingers, a sure sign that he’s nervous. “I don’t know…”  
  
“That’s okay, you don’t have to. To be honest, I didn’t know what you should call me for a while either.” Nicky reaches for a stray pen lying on the table. “So maybe we could pick a name for me now?”  
  
Hugo nods.  
  
“Do you want to call me dad?” Nicky asks carefully.  
  
Hugo pulls a face. “Sounds weird.”  
  
“Okay,” Nicky laughs. “Do you want to call me Nicky?”  
  
“I don’t know...”  
  
Hm, okay.  
Not Nicky either.  
  
“What about papa?” Hugo asks.   
  
Nicky’s heart swells in his chest. He hugs Hugo closer with one arm and presses a kiss on the top of his head. “Papa sounds absolutely perfect.”  
  
Hugo smiles.  
  
And so, for the second time in what feels like a very short period, Nicky has to blink away his tears as he watches Hugo carefully write down _ PaPa _ above the stick figure with the curls.  
  
🧦  
  
So maybe,  
maybe,   
Nicky takes extra time to get ready that morning.  
  
And maybe,  
_ maybe_,   
they’re late because of him.  
  
“Why are you so slow?” Hugo complains when Nicky quickly swaps his beige sweater for a simple white T.  
  
“You can’t rush love, nene.”  
  
The look of confusion Hugo gives him is hilarious and cute, and Nicky wants nothing more than to respond with, _ same_, but Hugo is right.  
They really need to go.  
  
The way Nicky tears across the highway would make Andrew proud.   
  
Beside him, Hugo bounces up and down on his seat. “So fast!”  
  
Nicky laughs awkwardly,   
and again when he cuts off a stressed out mother in the parking lot, stealing a place right in front of her nose.  
  
“Sorry!” he exclaims as he rushes around the car to all but pull Hugo out. “Important business!”  
  
There’s no time to check his hair, but running across the parking lot with Hugo probably does wonders for the volume.   
  
When they burst through the school doors, the hallway is almost completely empty.   
It’s not a good sign.   
It’s a sign that they’re _ really _ late.  
  
“Shit,” Nicky mumbles.  
  
He tugs on Hugo’s hand and together they run all the way to Hugo’s class, where the door is still open, thank _ god _ .  
  
But just as they’re getting closer, the door starts closing.  
  
“No! Wait!” Nicky shouts.  
  
He nearly slips as he skirts around the door but luckily there’s a hand to steady him.  
A strong,  
manly,  
mountain climbing hand.  
  
Looking at Nicky in surprise is, obviously, Erik.  
  
“Oh, god,” Nicky wheezes, severly out of breath.  
  
“Yay, we made it,” Hugo says.  
  
He doesn’t sound tired at _ all_.  
Kids.  
  
Erik blinks, then smiles down at Hugo. “You did. Did you want to come to school so badly you started running?”  
  
_ If only that was the case_, says the tired adult side of Nicky’s brain.  
  
_ Babe, I’ll come running to you every day if you want me to_, says the thirsty teenager side of Nicky’s brain.  
  
“No,” Hugo says bluntly. “Papa was late.”  
  
There’s a moment of absolute silence as Nicky’s heart clenches so tightly he can hardly breathe. He feels like he’s going to cry again, but then Erik smiles and says, “Next time you make sure your papa is on time, okay, Hugo?”  
  
Hugo nods. “Will do, Mr. Erik!” Then he rushes into the classroom, where he’s greeted by Taylee, Margaret’s miraculously nice daughter.  
  
“I’m so sorry we’re late,” Nicky says as soon as Hugo is gone.  
  
Erik waves his words away. “Don’t worry about it.”  
  
He leans forward and beckons Nicky closer.  
  
For a wild second, Nicky imagines Erik pulling him by the shirt and slamming him against the wall before hungrily kissing him, all tongue and teeth and—  
Nicky shakes his head, pushing away his thirsty thoughts, and leans closer as well.  
  
His heart stutters as he watches Erik’s lip curve into a smile that looks almost… naughty.  
  
“I figured you’d have a talk with Hugo this morning,” Erik whispers. “So I might’ve waited for you, papa.”  
  
Did Nicky have a daddy kink?  
Was that on his list, and if not, why the hell not?  
  
_Jesus fuck_.  
  
“Haha,” Nicky laughs, and it sounds absolutely fake because he’s too busy trying not to audibly gasp for air.  
  
“I’m glad things worked out,” Erik smiles.   
  
His blue eyes sparkle with humour and genuine happiness, and Nicky can only stare.  
  
How can this man be real?   
One moment, Nicky wants to hug Erik close and bury his face in his soft looking teacher sweaters, the other he wants to drag Erik to his car and rip his clothes off.  
  
It’s slightly overwhelming.  
  
“Anyway,” Erik says awkwardly, when Nicky only stares at him. “I think I need to start the class now, so, um—”  
  
“Thank you,” Nicky blurts out, remembering his manners. “Thank you for telling me. I couldn’t have talked to Hugo without you. I wouldn’t have noticed.”  
  
“That’s alright. Sometimes the things that are closest to us are the hardest to notice.”  
  
“Ain’t that the truth.”  
  
Erik smiles. “Have a good day at work, Nicky.”  
  
The words sound like they shouldn’t have been said at school.  
They should’ve been said after breakfast,  
when Nicky has just finished his coffee,  
and Erik has just put away the plates before coming over and pressing a sweet kiss to Nicky’s lips, smiling at him with those sparkling blue eyes.  
  
For a second,   
Nicky _ aches_.  
  
Then he manages to pull himself together enough to smile back and say, “You too, Erik.”  
  
🧦  
  
Something changes, then.  
  
It’s nothing big,  
but it _ feels _ big to Nicky.  
  
Because first, the days where Erik smiled at him were far and few between.  
Now, Erik catches Nicky’s eye every morning, giving him a smile that is so fucking soft it’s putting all the laundry detergent and plushies to shame.  
  
It makes Nicky’s heart do cartwheels.  
And it also makes it very hard not to think.  
Not to _ hope_.  
  
🧦  
  
There’s a bake sale.  
Tomorrow.  
Because they need new equipment for gym class.  
  
It’s there on the freaking calendar Erik gave him,   
yet it still catches Nicky by surprise when he looks at it with bleary eyes and a cup of coffee in his hand.  
  
“Hugo? Is there a bake sale tomorrow?”  
  
Hugo’s mouth is currently full of yoghurt but he mumbles enthusiastically, “Uh-huh!”  
  
Nicky side-eyes his kitchen cabinets.   
  
He knows those bitches are empty, aside from a few prepackaged snacks that never see the light of day because Nicky only reaches for them in the evening when Hugo is already asleep.  
  
But come on,  
not _ every _ parent can bake, right?  
  
Nicky can’t be the only one who buys their kid baked goods and awkwardly pretends like they’re not store bought.  
  
“What are we gonna bake?” Hugo asks, before putting another big spoonful of yoghurt into his mouth.  
  
“Chocolate chip cookies?”  
  
They’re the easiest to fake.  
Just put ‘em in the oven for a few seconds and ta-da.  
“Home made”.  
  
“Mr. Erik said he would judge all the cakes and muffins and cookies and then he’d pick a winner. And the winner would get a prize.”  
  
Nicky’s hand tightens around his cup of coffee.  
  
He slowly turns to Hugo.   
  
“Hugo,” he says solemnly. “Cancel all your plans tonight. We’re going to bake.”  
  
🧦  
  
A package of bandages,  
an entire tray of burnt cookies,  
and a restless night of sleep later,  
Nicky and Hugo show up at Hobbiton with two containers filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies.  
  
It’s a little like bringing sensible shoes to a drag show.  
  
The classroom has been cleared from all the hobbit stuff and instead there’s tables with cute little umbrellas where the kids can display their baking.  
It doesn’t look like a kid came even near to the tables, however.  
  
It’s like all the moms went on Pinterest and printed out their own vision boards,  
so ridiculously high class does the presentation look.  
There’s small umbrellas, cupcake holders with gold foil, sprinkles in sensible beige and white, little fairy lights and cut out hearts strewn across the table.  
  
And that’s just the decoration.  
  
Nicky looks at the fluffy cranberry muffins, banana cakes with precise piping details, carrot cakes cut out as little pumpkins, strawberry shortcakes and freshly baked chocolate croissants.  
  
“It’s like the freaking British bake off,” Nicky says, stunned.  
  
“Aww, you think so?” A voice calls from behind Nicky.  
  
He doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is.  
He knows.  
  
“I mean, it’s just something simple,” Margaret continues, walking around Nicky in her black and white polka dot dress. “Whipped this up in half an hour.”  
  
With _ this _ she means a toffee apple cake that has multiple layers and real toffee apples on top.  
  
Everything inside Nicky spits fire at the perfection of the cake,  
and his hands clench tightly around the plastic container with their chocolate chip cookies.  
  
He forces a smile on his face though. “Really? It does kinda look like it only took you half an hour.”  
  
A muscle near Margaret’s left eye twitches.  
Yet she also maintains her smile, because she isn’t a total fool and knows what game they’re playing.  
  
“Well, just because I quit my job doesn’t mean I’m not busy, Nicky, hahah.” Her laugh sounds _ so _ fake. “But, oh, I think you’re just a little too late again. Looks like all the tables are filled.”  
  
_ No, no, no_.  
  
Nicky looks around again, and now that he’s not overwhelmed by the impressive displays, he sees that Margaret is right.  
Not a single mother was social when she arranged her baking. All the displays take so much space that there’s simply not enough room anymore.  
  
“What?” Hugo asks, looking up at Nicky with big eyes. “I can’t sell our cookies?”  
  
“Oh, cookies,” Margaret laughs. “How deliciously common.”   
  
The plastic container in Nicky’s hands groans as he tries not to throw it at her head.  
It would be a shame after all the work they put into making these last night.  
  
“I’m sure we can find something,” Nicky says, trying to put on a cheery front. “Let’s walk around.”  
  
They don’t find anything aside from mom’s with too much make up and cakes that look more put together than Nicky’s life.  
  
“There’s no room,” Hugo says sadly.  
  
Taylee runs up to them just then. “Hugo! Hugo, you can share my table!”  
  
“No!” Nicky says quickly.  
  
Two children look up at him with confused little faces.  
  
“Uh,” he smiles awkwardly. “I mean, that’s very kind of you Taylee, but there really isn’t any room…”  
  
“We could move stuff around,” Taylee suggests, but no way in hell is Nicky going to do _ that_.  
  
Out-sassing Margaret is something he can do with his eyes closed,  
something the woman herself doesn’t even notice half the time.  
But messing with her display…  
That’s like starting a war.  
  
Because everyone knows what’s at stake here.  
  
Mr. Erik’s bake sale prize.  
  
Speaking of.  
Nicky looks around in an attempt to find Mr. Erik, but sadly he’s nowhere to be found.   
Maybe one of the mothers finally snapped and kidnapped him.  
  
Damn, why didn’t Nicky think of that?  
  
Looking around, Nicky’s eyes fall on a cute little cart that’s used as storage for the craft supplies.  
Maybe…  
  
“Hey, Hugo, do you have like a supply closet?”  
  
Hugo frowns. “Yes, it’s one of our chores.”  
  
Awesome.  
Well, not so awesome for the kids, but you know, awesome for the situation right now.  
  
Nicky walks over to the cart. “What do you see we clean this up and use it as a cookie cart?”  
  
Hugo’s eyes turn huge. “Can we do that?!”   
  
_ Good question_.  
  
“I’m an adult,” Nicky says confidently. “Sure we can.”  
  
🧦  
  
They wheel the cart to the supply closet and store away the supplies in a spot Nicky’s fairly sure he can find again.  
He’s about to walk away with the empty cart, when he eyes the coloured carton paper.  
  
It shouldn’t be important to outdo the other parents,  
but something in Nicky is itching to show the rest that even though they’re not a conventional family, they’re not pathetic.  
  
Hugo notices Nicky’s lingering and turns around with a big question mark on his small face.  
  
“I think our cart needs one more thing,” Nicky says, and grabs a few papers.  
  
🧦  
  
The big smile on Hugo’s face is already more than worth it.  
  
And, seriously, it looks so ridiculously cute, the way he proudly pushes the _ COOKIE CART _ as it now says in brightly coloured paper letters that they stuck to the front.  
Nicky cut a few bright circles to put on top of the cart, so the plates where they put the cookies look more colourful.  
  
All in all, _ not bad_.  
  
Back in the classroom, the sour look on Margaret’s face makes the victory all the sweeter.  
  
Until she stomps towards Nicky and loudly says, “Did you just _ steal _ from the school?”  
  
The classroom wasn’t quiet to begin with,  
it couldn’t be with so many hobbits and chatting moms,  
but Nicky can definitely hear a sort of hush falling over the room as the moms closest to him turn around.  
  
Nicky’s left standing with his mouth open.  
  
He can’t believe Margaret would actually do this.  
  
“I— I didn’t—” Nicky stammers.  
  
For once, he’s too shocked to respond.  
  
He’s glad Hugo’s at the other end of the room, playing with Stephen and Taylee and completely missing the catastrophe that’s happening.  
  
“That cart was fully stocked before,” Margaret says, and there’s a smug little undertone in her voice that makes Nicky want to strangle her.  
  
But then the door opens  
and a voice calls out, “Wow, it smells amazing in here! Did someone bake something?”  
  
The kids start laughing, and some of the moms too, before they run towards Mr. Erik, eagerly wanting to show off their table.  
  
“Why don’t you all stand behind your table, and I’ll pretend I’m a customer?” Mr. Erik says, trying to calm them down.  
  
And then he looks over to the corner of the classroom,  
where Nicky is still shaking on his feet.  
  
It takes Mr. Erik five seconds to see something’s wrong, and then he’s walking over.  
  
Margaret immediately fluffs up her hair,  
like that’s going to mask her god-awful personality.  
  
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Erik asks. His voice has a sharper quality to it than usual.  
  
“Nothing!” Nicky says quickly.  
  
Margaret shoots him a nasty glare over her shoulder, before smoothing her face into something that looks like _ concern _ .  
  
“I’m so sorry to say this, Erik, but I caught Nicky stealing from the school.”  
  
Her words are like chains wrapping around Nicky’s body,  
squeezing him so tightly he can barely move.  
  
And it’s awful to see the shock in Erik’s blue eyes   
as he slowly shifts his gaze back to Nicky.  
  
“I didn’t,” Nicky says weakly. “There were no tables available, so I used the—”  
  
“Mr. Erik!” Hugo’s voice cuts through the tension. “Mr. Erik, do you want to try a cookie?”  
  
Standing behind Erik are Stephen, Taylee, and Hugo with his cookie cart.  
The cart that started this stupid shit.  
  
Erik is quiet for a few seconds.  
Then he bends down a little.   
  
“Wow, did you bake all of these, Hugo?”  
  
“Hmm, no, papa helped.”   
  
For reference, Hugo points to Nicky.  
Bless him.  
  
“Very good,” Erik says. “What kind of cookies are they?”  
  
“Chocolate chip!” Stephen says, because he’s an impatient little hobbit.  
  
“Yeah,” Hugo nods.  
  
Erik moves to his feet again. “I’d love a cookie,” he says. “Chocolate chip are my favourite.”  
  
There’s something about the way he says the words,  
but Nicky can’t quite pinpoint it until Erik turns around with a cookie in his hand and takes a big bite.  
  
“You should all try one of these,” Erik says. “They’re delicious.”  
  
It’s the most polite _ fuck you _ Nicky has ever seen  
and his knees feel weak as he can feel himself falling in love.  
  
🧦  
  
“Nicky, wait!”  
  
Nicky does.  
Even though he wants to get the fuck away from the bake sale,   
he never wants to get away from Erik.  
  
He turns and watches Erik jog up to him,  
looking soft and perfect in his pink sweater.  
  
“Whatever just happened, I wanted to say sorry,” Erik says.  
  
Nicky’s eyebrows raise. “You didn’t know what happened?”  
  
“I can guess,” Erik grimaces. “You used the cart so Hugo could have a place for his cookies, right?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“That’s really nice of you, Nicky.”  
  
“Guess it wasn’t. ‘Cause now everyone thinks I’m a criminal or something. I just put everything back in the supply room, I can even show you if you like.”  
  
“No!” Erik says immediately. “I believe you. I believed you immediately.”   
  
The words make Nicky’s heart stutter.  
  
“Do I look that trustworthy?” he jokes, but it comes out a little weak.  
  
“Yes,” Erik answers honestly. “And I also know how Margaret is.”  
  
Without meaning to, Nicky pulls a face.  
  
“I know,” Erik sighs. He leans closer, like he’s about to tell a secret. “I wasn’t lying, you know. Homemade chocolate chip cookies really are my favourite.”  
  
He smiles brightly,  
punching all the air out of Nicky’s lungs.  
  
Nicky stares at Erik’s handsome face.  
  
_ I want to kiss you so bad_.  
  
“I have to go back now,” Erik says, leaning away again and suddenly everything in Nicky is screaming to stop him, stop him right now.  
  
On instinct, Nicky reaches out and grabs Erik’s arm  
and hot diggity damn.  
Those are some mountain climbing muscles alright.  
  
“Thank you,” Nicky says. “For trusting me.”  
  
Erik’s smile turns soft.   
He stares back, for so long that the space between them becomes this… this _ thing _ that needs to be crossed, or else Nicky will lose his mind.  
And it’s like Erik knows what he wants,  
because he takes a hesitant step forward, his chest briefly bumping against Nicky, and Nicky tilts his head back and thinks, _ please kiss me. _  
  
And then the school bell rings,  
signalling the start of the lessons  
and the end of whatever this could’ve been.  
  
Startled, Erik takes a step back. “Sorry! I need to, uh, teach.”  
  
“At the bake sale?” Nicky asks, bravely ignoring his red cheeks.  
  
“Uh.” Erik blinks. “No, uh, you’re right. I just need to get back, because, uh, children.”  
  
Is it just Nicky or does Mr. Erik seem _ nervous_?  
  
“Okay,” Nicky says. “Have fun eating Margaret’s toffee apple cake.”   
  
Erik pulls a face that’s too cute before he walks back to the classroom, giving a cute little half-wave over his shoulder.  
  
A laugh bubbles up in Nicky’s chest,  
one that feels light and _ hopeful_.  
  
Even though all the other moms are shit,  
at least Mr. Erik liked his cookies.  
  
🧦  
  
To say that it’s raining outside would be like saying you don’t get wet when you step under the shower.  
  
An understatement.  
  
Nicky pauses in the middle of brushing his teeth.  
Wait.  
That’s not right.  
  
He stares sleepily at himself in the mirror,  
at the way his hair is standing up in multiple places,  
and wonders why it’s so light in the bathroom.  
  
It’s normally not this bright in the morning when he’s brushing his tee— _  
_ _ Oh, fuck_.  
  
In his haste to get to the nearest clock, Nicky slips on the rug in the hallway,  
and before he knows it the corner of his shoe cabinet is getting too close for comfort.  
With a painful _ thud _ , his head connects with the hard wood.  
  
“ _ Ow, fuck_,” Nicky swears, tears welling up in his eyes and his head pounding painfully.  
  
Everything’s blurry as he crawls towards his phone, still lying on his bed. His head is hurting like _ crazy _ as he watches the digits on his phone notify him that they have exactly 20 minutes to get the hell out of their house or else Hugo is going to be late again.  
  
“Hugo!” Nicky shouts, cupping his forehead with one hand and pushing himself to his feet with his other. “Hugo, are you up? We need to _ go_!”  
  
🧦  
  
There was no time to do hair and makeup,  
so Nicky actually, for the first time since he’s known of Mr. Erik’s existence, hopes he can slip away between the moms unnoticed.  
  
There’s a fair crowd of them in front of the classroom, chatting away about Facebook memes they shared or something.  
Maybe minions.  
  
Nicky helps Hugo push to the front and quickly crouches in front of him to give him a tight hug. “Have fun today, amigo.”  
  
“I’m wearing my pineapple socks,” Hugo says seriously. “I think I’ll be alright.”  
  
Nicky laughs.  
  
Waving goodbye, Hugo runs into the classroom.  
After he’s gone from sight, Nicky quickly shuffles backwards, disappearing between the mom mass.  
  
Or so he thought.  
  
“Nicky!” Erik calls out.  
  
_ Please resist this force between us for one morning, mountain man, I beg of you_.  
  
But Nicky’s prayer goes unheard,  
and so does his futile attempt to pretend he hasn’t heard Erik,   
because a hand grabs his arm and Nicky dies a little on the inside because holyshit Erik is touching him.  
  
He spins around.  
  
Erik is wearing a green t-shirt with a frog on it,  
and it shouldn’t be so fucking cute,  
but it is.  
  
It’s so cute that for a few seconds,  
Nicky’s mind draws up blank as he stares at Erik in the frog shirt.  
  
Then he realizes that it’s weird to keep staring, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.  
  
“That’s a frog.”  
  
“Your hair is different,” Erik says.   
  
Surprised, Nicky looks up at Erik  
and sees that Erik’s sort of staring at Nicky’s hair.  
  
_ Oh, shit, _ that’s right.  
He didn’t style it.  
  
“Uh,” Nicky says. “Yeah, we were running—”  
  
The rest of his sentence dies in his throat when Erik reaches out and gently smoothes down a section that’s probably defying gravity.   
  
Erik laughs,  
and Nicky forgets to breathe.  
  
“It won’t stay down,” Erik smiles.  
  
_ Thank you, hair_, Nicky thinks, because Erik tries again to smooth it down and every second Erik’s hand is on Nicky’s hair is another second that Nicky is going to treasure for-fucking-ever.  
  
But then Erik remembers that he’s standing in the middle of Hobbiton.  
At least, Nicky guesses that’s why his eyes turn wide.  
  
“Oh! Sorry,” Erik says and quickly drops his hand. “I— That was inappropriate of me.”  
  
“No!’ Nicky blurts out, blindly grabbing Erik’s hand and putting it back on his head. “I don’t mind!”   
  
Erik blinks in surprise.  
Then he smiles again, that smile that makes Nicky want to stare at him for hours.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I didn’t have time to style it this morning,” Nicky explains awkwardly. He drops his hand. “So, really, you were doing me a favour by making sure I look presentable.”   
  
“Oh, it didn’t look bad,” Erik says immediately. “It looked super soft.”  
  
Oh.  
Nicky has no idea what to say now.  
  
“I think your shirt is cute.”  
  
Apparently, his mind thinks the frog shirt is an appropriate topic of conversation.  
  
Erik smiles. “You think? Thank you. We’re going to investigate amphibians today and I thought it was appropriate.”  
  
Too  
gosh darn  
cute.  
  
“Very,” Nicky agrees with his mind. And Erik.  
  
The school bell rings then,  
and it’s probably because Nicky was late today because this has never happened before. Did they really talk for so long?  
  
“You have to go, Mr. Frog,” Nicky jokes. “All your fans are waiting for you.”  
  
Erik laughs.  
Not a throw-back-your-head laugh, but a pleasantly surprised laugh that escapes him.  
  
“I’m serious,” Nicky says, but he’s not. “I was never good at biology, so you have to teach Hugo all that stuff.”  
  
“Really?” Erik asks, still smiling. “But it’s just facts about plants and animals.”  
  
_ Pffsh_.  
  
Nicky lightly punches Erik’s arm. “I meant in high school, genius. Of course I understood it in kindergarten.”  
  
“Shame.” Erik grins. “I could’ve given you some private biology lessons.”  
  
Now he’s just—  
Wait.  
Wait, wait, wait.  
Wait a fucking min—what the fuck did he just mean with that was that flirting did Erik just come onto Nicky?  
  
Nicky gapes at Erik in shock as his mind runs around in circles. Screaming.  
  
“Well, I should go,” Erik says, still grinning like he knows something that Nicky does not. Like random frog facts. “See you around, Nicky.”  
  
When the frog turns around,  
Nicky is left with the glorious sight of Erik’s broad shoulders, strong back and nice butt.  
  
It should be the perfect ending for the scene,  
but before Nicky can daydream all the way back to his car,   
his vision is filled with uninspiring beige and fake blonde hair.  
  
“Really, Nicky?” Margaret says, and pity drips off her every word. “You don’t seriously think you can win this, can you?”  
  
“Win?” Nicky asks, confused.  
  
“Erik isn’t gay.”  
  
“How—”  
  
“It’s simple, really. You’re the only man. And you’re his age as well. It makes total sense for him to like you as a _ friend_.” 

And just like that,  
Nicky is reminded why he’s a fool for hoping.  
Why he should stay away  
and pine from afar.  
  
Because he’s said it himself.  
  
Erik can’t be flirting with him,  
because Erik isn’t gay.  
  
The corners of Nicky’s mouth start trembling and twitching,  
and Nicky knows he’s going to cry any minute now,  
but fuck him, he’s not going to give her that satisfaction.  
  
“You don’t know,” Nicky says with a shaky voice. “Just because you think you’re progressive, doesn’t mean you have a gaydar, Margaret.”  
  
He turns around and walks away   
just in time  
before the tears start falling.  
  
🧦  
  
It’s just a crush, Nicky thinks, as he drives to work feeling absolutely wrung out even though his day has just begun.  
  
It’s just a crush,   
and yet every time Nicky sees Erik,   
he wants to never not see him.  
  
If that makes sense.  
  
It’s an all-encompassing feeling,  
being around Erik.  
  
Because it feels like a lazy Sunday,  
where you can be your gross self and it’s awesome,  
but it also feels like a late night dance party,   
when you’re slightly out of breath but you feel so, so _alive_.  
  
What Nicky feels for Erik is _everything_,  
even though everything doesn’t make sense.  
  
🧦  
  
What Margaret does that afternoon, however, does make sense to Nicky.  
Because she’s a fake bitch who wants to watch Nicky’s world burn.  
  
At the end of the school day, after the bell rung loudly through Hobbiton, the small hobbits run out of the classroom, followed by the most beautiful man Nicky has ever seen.  
Before the other moms can swarm Mr. Erik, Margaret is all over him like it’s Black Friday and he’s a Sephora store.  
  
But that’s normal.  
That’s what she usually does.  
Yet Nicky feels a pang inside his chest when he sees Erik talk to her and the other moms.  
  
Some of them are divorced, he knows.  
Some of them are pretty too.  
And Nicky knows that some of them are very nice and sweet.   
  
He got a text from Savannah that morning, saying she thought Margaret’s accusation was bullshit and that she wished she’d had the balls to say something.  
  
Nicky sighs, then waves at Hugo as he walks out of the classroom with a piece of paper clutched in his hands.  
  
Hopefully, Hugo’s drawing is the pick-me-up Nicky needs.  
  
Nicky crouches down. “What you got there, nene?”   
  
“A drawing!” Hugo states proudly, and gives it to Nicky.  
  
The first thing Nicky sees is a mountain with two giant goats standing vertically on its slope.   
The second thing is three stick figures, standing in front of the mountain,  
one with Grease hair,  
one with curls,  
and one… with a green shirt with a frog on it.  
  
Nicky’s heart flips as he realizes what he’s looking at.  
  
_Hugo_, _PaPa & Mister Erik__  
_the drawing says.  
  
“Do you like it?” Hugo asks.  
  
Chest feeling tight, Nicky nods. “Did Mr. Erik see this?”  
  
“Uh-huh. He said I should draw him in his frog shirt because you liked it.”  
  
_Oh, jesus_.  
  
This is more than a pick-me-up.  
This drawing is a fucking shot of dopamine straight into Nicky’s heart.  
Feeling ten pounds lighter, Nicky wants to grab Hugo and spin him around.  
  
He doesn’t.  
  
Because right at that moment,   
Margaret’s horrible voice asks just a bit too loudly, “Don’t tell me. Are you hiding a girlfriend from us, Erik?”  
  
For a moment, Nicky forgets he’s not an owl as he quickly spins his head around.  
His neck muscles shout angrily at him.  
  
Erik’s shoulders raise and his head dips slightly,   
and though the strand of blonde hair falling over his forehead looks very, very cute,  
Nicky is angry at Margaret for making Erik uncomfortable.  
  
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend,” Erik says. “I’m not—”  
  
“Searching?” Margaret interrupts him. “Oh, that’s alright.” She winks at him, this incredibly awkward and exaggerated wink that looks like it belongs in a tacky comedy series. One that was discontinued.  
  
And it’s not even the worst of it.  
  
“Why don’t you let me search for you?” Margaret continues. “Save you some trouble.”  
  
“Oh.” Erik almost visibly recoils. “That’s really… nice of you, but I don’t really—”  
  
“No need to be humble!” one of the other moms says.  
  
Margaret puts her hand on Erik’s arm and leans closer. “It’s okay to admit that you need someone, Erik. Life can be so hard without someone to rely on.”  
  
_As if Erik doesn’t have any friends_, Nicky thinks angrily.  
How dare Margaret harass Erik about something that’s personal? How dare they try to family-birthday-party Erik?  
  
“I appreciate your concern,” Erik says, leaning away. “But there’s really no need.”  
  
It’s a little painful to watch.  
Which is when Nicky realizes he’s done watching.  
  
He takes out his phone, snaps a photo, then pushes past the other moms to stand between Erik and Margaret.  
  
“I’d let go, Margaret,” Nicky says, raising his chin so he can look down on her. “Don’t want to get reported for harassment.”  
  
Margaret’s eyes narrow, but she drops her hand. “How nice of you to join us, Nicky, but I think you misunderstood the situation.” She lets out a forced laugh. “I was merely trying to help Mr. Erik.”  
  
“By asking him personal questions while he’s at work?”  
  
“Like I said,” Margaret says, definitely sounding annoyed now. “I’m just looking out for him.”  
  
Nicky holds his phone up for her to see. “Didn’t look like that to me.”  
  
She leans in. When she sees the photo, her eyes widen in shock.  
  
_You wanted war, bitch_, Nicky thinks viciously. _Here you have it._  
  
“Yeah,” Nicky says. “Accusations are shit, huh.”  
  
He pockets his phone and walks away before the situation can get too out of hand, because _oh my god_ was he ready to punch a bitch.  
  
A few feet away from the mom mass, Hugo’s waiting for him while talking with Stephen about...  
  
“But she turns into a dragon!” Stephen says.  
  
“But she’s _evil!_” Hugo argues.  
  
… Sleeping Beauty?  
  
“Time to go, Hugo,” Nicky says.  
  
“Okay,” Hugo agrees, then says bye to Stephen, who yells that they definitely need to watch Sleeping Beauty on Saturday.  
  
As they walk, Hugo grabs Nicky’s hand and looks up at him. “Can we?”  
  
“Sure,” Nicky says. “Are you going to his place or yours?”  
  
“Don’t know.”  
  
“Okay, let me know. Maybe I’ll make some plans of my own.”  
  
“Are you going shopping?”  
  
“Yeah, maybe.” Nicky smiles. “I think it’s time for another sexy dad shirt.”  
  
Hugo pulls a face.   
  
🧦  
  
The rest of the week flies by,  
and before Nicky knows it, he’s dropping Hugo off at Stephen’s place.  
  
After chatting with Stephen’s mom for a few minutes—she’s one of the nicer moms—he drives to the city and meets up with Allison.  
  
“It’s been ages,” Allison says as she hugs him. She smells like lilies, all fresh and flowery and gorgeous.  
  
“I know!” Nicky whines. “It’s just, work and everything.”  
  
“So what are we doing today?”  
  
“You need to make me look like a hot dad.”  
  
Allison’s eyebrows raise. “Since when are you embracing the dad look?”  
  
Since Erik came down from his mountain to change Nicky’s life for the better.  
  
“Um,” Nicky says, but the answer must be super obvious on his face because Allison grins at him.  
  
“Did you meet a single dad?”  
  
“Oh, uh, no, nothing like that,” Nicky says quickly. “I just need to feel hot again.”  
  
Allison shoots him a look that says she doesn’t believe him.  
And then she says, “You know you are, right?”  
  
It shouldn’t be so important to hear,  
yet Nicky feels better anyway.  
  
Raising Hugo is so incredible in a lot of ways, and Nicky feels so grateful he can be there for him,   
but sudden fatherhood seriously did some damage to his self esteem.  
  
No more parties.  
No more not-so-smart blind dates.  
No more compliments.  
  
Allison loops her arm through his. “Come on, let’s go find a hot outfit for the single dad.”  
  
“He’s not a single dad!” Nicky protests, but he lets himself get dragged to a cool store.  
  
Inside, music pounding loudly through the speakers,  
there’s hot, young people everywhere.  
  
Nicky suddenly feels old.  
  
“I don’t know,” he starts. “Don’t you think I’m too—”  
  
A manicured finger presses harshly against his lips,  
as if Allison’s glare doesn’t also shut him up.  
  
“No,” she says. “Today is loving ourselves day. Understood?”  
  
Swallowing, Nicky nods silently.  
  
🧦  
  
He’s trying to fit his body into tight black jeans when Allison asks, “So if he’s not a single dad, then who is he? I need details.”  
  
“Uh,” Nicky says, quickly peering through the curtain to look if there are other people lingering nearby.  
  
There aren’t.  
It’s just Allison, lounging in one of the plush, velvety green chairs in front of the fitting rooms.  
  
Nicky lets the curtain fall again and turns back to the mirror. “Uh, he’s Hugo’s teacher?” he says awkwardly.  
  
He knows how awful it sounds.  
Hitting on your kid’s teacher.  
  
Allison whistles. “Going for an older man, are we? Good for you.”  
  
“No, he’s my age,” Nicky mumbles, fiddling with the zipper on the tight jeans. “And he’s new. He’s only been his teacher for a few months.”  
  
“Okay,” Allison says. “So you’re going to make a move on him then?”  
  
“No…”  
  
Opening the curtain, Nicky walks out of the fitting room to show Allison the jeans.  
She nods appreciatively as she watches him walk around.  
  
“Those are _very_ good, Nicky, your ass looks great and your legs look stunning. You should get them.”  
  
The compliments wash over Nicky like the first sip of hot tea.  
He feels all warm inside.  
  
And she’s right, they do look good.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll get them,” he says.  
  
He starts walking back, but Allison calls out, “No way. Get your cute ass over here and tell me why you’re not going to make a move. Is it because he’s Hugo’s teacher?”  
  
Nicky turns around again. “Partly. But he’s also not gay.”  
  
“Is he married?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Girlfriend?”  
  
“No.”  
  
No, Margaret made sure they _all_ knew Mr. Erik was single.  
  
“Okay…” Allison says slowly, looking at Nicky like he’s being dumb.  
  
“What?” he asks.  
  
Allison rolls her eyes. “So how do you know he’s not gay? Did he tell you?”  
  
_Oooh_.  
Right.  
  
Okay. So Nicky knows how this is going to sound, which is why he quickly says, “No, but he doesn’t know his teal! In fact, he doesn’t seem to care about his clothes a lot, and besides, I’m the only guy his age there. Obviously he likes to talk to me. It doesn’t mean he’s gay.”  
  
_Fuck_, he’s repeating what that bitch said.  
  
Allison is quiet for a few seconds. “Gee, that sounded like a rehearsed speech. How long have you been pining over this guy?”  
  
“A while…” Nicky mumbles, forcing himself not to blush like a teenager even though he’s standing in a store with teenagers.  
  
“He doesn’t know his teal,” Allison repeats, shaking her head. “Nicky, what the fuck are you being stereotypical for? There’s gay guys who don’t give a fuck about fashion.”  
  
Looking down, Nicky fiddles with hem of his shirt. “Yeah, Neil said something similar…”  
  
“Send me in,” Allison declares.  
  
Nicky looks at her in surprise. “What?”  
  
“Send me in, chief. I can find out if he’s gay or not.”  
  
Instead of saying,   
_that’s so sweet of you, my dearest friend, but no, thank you.__  
_Nicky asks, “How?”  
  
🧦  
  
Before Nicky reaches the school’s front doors,   
he gets pulled to the side by Allison.  
She’s standing behind a tree in a big black coat and large sunglasses on her face.  
  
“Why the fuck aren’t you wearing the jeans?” she hisses.  
  
“I was nervous?”  
  
“You’re not even wearing tight jeans today!”  
  
“You know what,” Nicky laughs awkwardly, “maybe this is a bad idea… I mean, we shouldn’t harass Erik, he’s at work and—”  
  
“Dammit, Nicky. Shut up,” Allison interrupts him. She doesn’t need to take off her sunglasses for Nicky to know that she’s glaring at him. “If that man will make you happy, I’m going to help you get your happiness, okay? Now go inside the damn building and try to strike up a conversation with him.”  
  
That’s difficult on a usual day when Nicky isn’t nervous,  
but Allison looks kinda like an assassin in her get-up, so Nicky simply nods, turns, and marches towards the school.  
  
As soon as the doors close behind him and the sounds of children laughing and shouting surround him,  
Nicky’s courage immediately drains away.  
  
He tries to swallow,  
but his throat feels drier than Kevin’s sense of humour.  
  
On shaky legs, Nicky forces himself to walk towards Hugo’s classroom.  
He’s fine, there’s still time, the bell hasn’t even—  
The bell rings.  
  
“Fuck,” Nicky mumbles.  
  
Everywhere, doors swing open and floods of hobbits pour out of them.  
Nicky feels a little like Aragorn as he wades through them, determined and mysterious, trying his best not to push them over.  
  
And then he hears it.  
  
It’s almost hidden by the shouts and screams of children, but Nicky has been pining for months, so he can recognise Erik’s voice through the commotion.  
  
Braving the mom mass, Nicky makes his way to Erik like he’s the one ring and Nicky is too weak to resist.  
Or Erik could be Legolas.  
Nicky always thought Aragorn and Legolas looked hot together.  
  
Nicky’s almost there, can almost touch Erik, when a mom pushes him to the side and Nicky stumbles back.  
  
“Nicky! Are you okay?”  
  
Except there is Erik,  
right in front of him,  
a hand on Nicky’s arm to steady him.  
  
Nicky’s heart flips as he stares into Erik’s blue eyes.  
  
”Yeah, uh, just clumsy, you know? Or maybe you don’t, since you climb mountains and stuff. You probably can’t be clumsy on a mountain.”  
  
Erik smiles. “I did fall once.”  
  
“What?” Nicky exclaims. “That’s dangerous!”  
  
“I mean, I didn’t do it on purpose,” Erik laughs.  
  
“Still! Don’t you need to be strapped in or something when you climb?”   
  
And, wow._  
_The mental image of Erik all tied up in ropes and straps is just.  
  
“_Nngh_,” Nicky says.  
  
“Depends on the mountain,” Erik says. “Some are more like extreme hiking?”  
  
Now that there’s less and less people in the hallway,  
the sound of heels on the colourful floor seems almost deafening.  
It’s a warning for Nicky.  
A warning that he has approximately three seconds to mentally prepare before blonde hair appears in his peripheral vision.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Allison says. “I think I’m a little lost. Do any of you know the way around here?”  
  
Nicky has to stop his mouth from falling open when he sees what Allison looks like.  
What she hid underneath the large black coat.  
  
She’s wearing a small black crop top that shows off her boobs splendidly, _wow_, and a cute denim skirt that casually shows off her legs.  
She looks fucking gorgeous.  
  
Which is what Nicky, stupidly, says.  
  
“Wow, you look gorgeous.”  
  
Allison’s eyes flit to him in faked surprise.  
Faked, because Nicky recognises the annoyed little twitch of her mouth.  
  
“Thank you,” she smiles. “But that’s not what I asked.”  
  
“Where do you need to go?” Erik asks, stepping forward. “I know my way around here.”  
  
“The administration office,” Allison lies smoothly.  
  
“Okay, that’s not too hard. You walk all the way to the end of the hallway, then turn left, and the office should be on your left. I can’t remember exactly which door, but there’s a sign.”  
  
While Erik’s talking and pointing in the direction she should go,  
Nicky takes the opportunity to stare unapologetically at his face.  
  
“Thanks,” Allison smiles. “I get lost so easily, let’s hope I can find it.”  
  
She laughs then,  
and it’s so different from how she usually acts that Nicky can’t help but stare at her strangely.  
It’s like a makeover but like, creepy.  
  
He’s so transfixed that he misses the end of the conversation, and suddenly Allison is saying bye and walking away.  
  
Nicky watches her walk towards the end of the hallway in her cute outfit.  
  
When he turns around,  
Erik’s watching him.  
  
“Uh,” Nicky says awkwardly, suddenly feeling like _Erik knows_. “She seemed nice, right? Haha...”  
  
His phone buzzes in his back pocket,  
and Nicky quickly takes it out.  
  
[allison]  
yup. he’s gay.  
  
Nicky’s heart skips a beat.  
  
[nicky]  
how??? do you know???  
  
[allison]  
i’ll tell you in the parking lot but spoiler  
  
[allison]  
he was looking more at you than me  
  
This time,  
Nicky’s heart doesn’t just skip a beat.  
  
It seems to stop beating altogether.  
At least for a few seconds,  
as Nicky’s world spins and spins and spins.  
  
“So I’m guessing blonde girls are your type?” Erik asks, then, before Nicky can look up in shock, seems to realise what he just said. “Uh, that’s not any of my business. Forget what I said?”  
  
“That’s—” Nicky starts.  
  
“Hey, papa,” Hugo interrupts, coming over now that both Stephen and Taylee went home. “What was aunt Al—”  
  
“Hugo!” Nicky exclaims, falling to his knees and enveloping Hugo in a big hug. “Good to see you again, amigo!”  
  
_Fuck, fuck, fuck._  
  
How did neither of them think about Hugo?  
  
Nicky leans back, trying to convey to Hugo that he absolutely needs to act like this is a Very Normal Dad Thing for Nicky to do.  
  
Instead, Hugo raises an eyebrow, and asks, “Que?”  
  
“Anyway,” Nicky says quickly, moving to his feet and giving Erik a smile he hopes doesn’t look nervous. “We have to go. It’s enchilada night and I still need to buy groceries.”  
  
At that, Hugo’s eyes turn big. “Enchilada night?”  
  
_Should’ve gone with that from the start, _Nicky thinks.  
He laughs a little forcefully.  
  
“Yes, Hugo, _remember_?”  
  
Hugo shakes his head.  
  
“Sounds nice,” Erik says, saving Nicky from humiliation. “I love enchiladas.”  
  
“You should eat with us,” Hugo says excitedly. He turns to Nicky. “Right?”  
  
_Yes, every night for the rest of our lives_.  
  
“I’m sure Mr. Erik is very busy,” Nicky forces himself to say.  
  
“Unfortunately, that’s true,” Erik says. “But I won’t say no a second time.”  
  
_What?_  
  
“For real?” Nicky blurts out. “Uh, I mean—”  
  
“Yes? But I don’t want to intrude or anything.”  
  
“You’re not!” Nicky shakes his hands _and_ head, looking a little wild probably, but he doesn’t want Erik to get the wrong idea. “You’re more than welcome to eat with us forever. I mean, eat enchiladas with us. Not forever. I don’t think that’s good for your digestion. To eat enchiladas forever, I mean. Not that there’s anything wrong with my cooking, it won’t give you digestive problems or anything if you were to eat with us forever. Not that—You know what? I’ll stop talking now.”   
  
Nicky shuts his eyes and mouth.  
  
It’s quiet in the hallway of Hobbiton,  
which makes everything even worse.  
  
Nicky’s words linger in the air for longer than Nicky is comfortable with.  
  
“I don’t mind Mr. Erik eating with us forever,” Hugo says. He pulls on Nicky’s hand. “Can we buy enchiladas now?”  
  
It’s the perfect way to break the tension.  
  
The moment Nicky opens his eyes,   
he sees the smile break out on Erik’s face, bright and happy as he laughs loudly.  
  
Nicky can’t do anything but laugh with him.  
Doesn’t _want _anything else but to laugh with Erik.  
Okay, partial lie.  
He still wants to climb all over him.  
  
“Thank you, Hugo,” Erik laughs. “That’s nice to know.”  
  
“We’ll be going now,” Nicky says, slightly embarrassed but still smiling. “See you tomorrow.”  
  
“Nicky, wait—” Erik calls out, but when Nicky turns around, he suddenly seems a little shy. “Uh. Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t tell yourself to stop talking. I like listening to you talk.”  
  
Eyes wide, Nicky watches Erik say the words.  
  
Never   
has anyone ever  
told Nicky to keep talking.  
  
“Okay,” Nicky says, surprised.  
  
Erik smiles. “Good.”  
  
🧦  
  
Back in her suspicious get-up, Allison waits for him with her arms crossed. “Took you long enough.”  
  
“Sorry, we were still talking. Or, uh, I was talking but get this, Erik actually told me he liked listening to me—”  
  
“And looking at you,” Allison adds.  
  
“—and he wanted to eat my enchiladas and—” Nicky pauses. “What? You think?”  
  
Allison rolls her eyes. “I _know_. I saw. Plain as day. You think someone interested in girls would pass up on the opportunity to walk me to the administration?”  
  
“I mean, it was right around the corner and—”  
  
“_No_, Nicky,” Allison interrupts him. “They wouldn’t.”  
  
Nicky’s mouth snaps shut.  
  
“Congratulations,” Allison says teasingly, giving him a little shove. “Looks like you get to wear those tight jeans after all.”  
  
🧦  
  
But Nicky’s not wearing his tight jeans a few days later, when he’s in the car, half an hour after dropping Hugo off at school, and seeing something yellow and green in the corner of his eye.  
  
At the nearest traffic light, he twists around to see what it is.  
  
It’s a pineapple.  
A pineapple lunchbox to be precise.  
  
“Shit,” Nicky swears.  
  
🧦  
  
So no, Nicky’s not wearing his tight jeans when he’s running down the eerily quiet hallways of Hobbiton, Hugo’s pineapple lunchbox clutched in his hand.  
Probably for the better anyway.  
Nicky doubts he can run in the thing.  
  
Panting from the exertion, Nicky stands in front of Hugo’s classroom door and feels a sudden burst of nerves.  
It’s like he’s fucking fifteen again, dreading the times he was late to class because everyone would look at him as he entered.  
Everyone would judge him and his clothes and the way he walked and talked and just.  
_Teenagers_.  
Teenagers who think that just because Nicky’s the only gay kid in their year (that’s what they _think_, not what Nicky _knows_) they get to make fun of him.  
  
But these are not teenagers.  
These are little hobbits, including one Nicky is responsible for feeding.  
And he’s holding the feed in his hand so he needs to get into the classroom, or else Hugo will be sad.  
  
Nicky opens the door,  
and he was so wrong  
because not a single kid turns around.  
  
They’re all sitting with their backs to Nicky  
and their faces towards Erik,  
who’s at the other end of the class on a stool,   
a guitar in his hand.  
  
He’s playing a simple tune to accommodate his warm, slightly gravelly voice as he sings.  
  
“_I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”__  
__  
_And it’s like magic,  
the way Erik looks up, his eyes immediately finding Nicky.  
  
It’s definitely because of true love that their eyes lock, and not that Nicky’s the only one standing in a classroom full of hobbits.  
  
Erik gives Nicky a soft smile. “_I always forget that you can’t read my mind.”  
  
_Not one of the kids notice Nicky,  
even though Erik keeps looking at Nicky as he sings.  
Which makes Nicky’s hands shaky and his knees weak.  
  
“_As long as I’ve got you and me,   
__moving through this world  
__as a two-man team,  
__I’ll always have everything I need.”__  
__  
_A two-man team, huh.  
  
If only that was possible, Nicky thinks for a bleak, bitter moment,   
before he knows, _knows_, that that’s not true.  
  
He doesn’t wish for a life that doesn’t have Hugo in it.  
But he does wish for a life with Erik.  
  
_“No one can fall for you,” _Erik sings with a smile, _“quite like me_.”  
  
Nicky’s heart beats like crazy.  
  
He’s sure his cheeks are flushed,  
but he doesn’t give a fuck right now.  
Not when he smiles back and Erik’s smile grows even bigger.  
  
“_I want you, you, you, and me, me, me, together_,” Erik sings and then repeats the lyrics one more time, before doing a fancy little thing on the strings that makes the kids whoop at him.  
  
When the song stops,   
the classroom is completely quiet.  
  
“Just something that was stuck in my mind,” Erik says with a sheepish smile.  
  
“That was _so_ _pretty_,” Taylee sighs, and yeah, she’s got that right.  
  
Erik puts away his guitar, even though the kids ask for more songs, then makes his way to Nicky.  
  
“Papa?” Hugo asks curiously, now that he finally spots him.  
  
“I, uh. That was very. Very beautiful,” Nicky says, as soon as Erik’s in front of him.  
  
“Thank you,” Erik smiles. “Sorry you had to stand. I’ll try to get you seats next time.”  
  
Nicky laughs. “That would be great. Do you think you could get me front row seats?”  
  
Erik pretends to think for a second. “Probably.”  
  
Heart feeling so light, Nicky simply smiles at Erik, looking at his handsome face and wishing he knew it by memory.  
But he doesn’t dare to stare so long.  
  
“So,” Erik says. “Even though I’d like to pretend you’re here for me, is everything okay? Does Hugo need to leave with you?”  
  
_Pretend you’re he_—  
What.  
  
Mouth opening and closing, Nicky stares in shock at Erik, trying to process what he’s just heard, when Hugo runs up to him.  
  
“Oh, sweet, my lunchbox!”   
  
Hugo grabs it from Nicky’s hand and runs back to his seat.  
  
“Oh, I see,” Erik says.  
  
“Yeah,” Nicky says weakly, mind still stuck on repeat.  
  
_Pretend you’re here for me  
__pretend you’re here for me  
__pretend_—  
  
“Well, I need to get on with class,” Erik says. “But thanks for bringing Hugo’s lunchbox. See you later, Nicky.”  
  
It’s his cue to get the fuck out of the classroom.  
  
And Nicky does so,  
but only because when Erik walks away he wants to stare at his ass and he can't with all the children around, so he forces himself to turn around and go to the door.  
  
🧦  
  
“I thought you knew he could play guitar?” Neil asks while holding one of Hugo’s legs.  
  
“I told you!” Hugo exclaims, upside-down. He laughs when Neil slightly shakes him.  
  
“I know, but I never _heard_ him.” Nicky takes another sip of his wine, then sighs. “His voice was just so… so perfect. Like chocolate cake. Whoever designed that knew what they were doing.”  
  
He’s being ignored as Hugo manages to attach himself to Neil’s leg, using the advantage to try and make Neil trip.  
  
“I can jump,” Neil says.  
  
“I’m strong!” Hugo says, tightening his arms.  
  
“Please don’t jump,” Nicky says. “I don’t want Hugo falling on his head.”  
  
Neil gives him a look that says _do you think I’m that stupid_.  
It’s closely related to Andrew’s _are you really that stupid_, and for a moment Nicky feels Soft™ that Neil and Andrew are so close they’re copying each other’s deadpan looks.  
  
He wishes that someday  
Erik and him will do the same.  
  
“I saw the drawing on your fridge,” Neil continues, and he sounds kinda like he’s pushing himself to talk. “Of you and Hugo and Erik.”  
  
“Oh, yeah! Isn’t it cute?”   
  
“Does Erik know?”  
  
“Yeah, he told Hugo to draw him in his frog shirt.” Nicky sighs deeply. “He looked so ridiculous and cute in that frog shirt.”  
  
“Okay, good,” Neil says, relieved, and then something bad happens.  
  
Hugo’s grip slips and Hugo screams as he slides down Neil’s legs. But Neil’s reflexes haven’t been honed for years to fail the Hemmick household now. Before Hugo’s head hits the ground, he catches the back of Hugo’s shirt.  
  
“Hugo!” Nicky exclaims angrily, because his heart is pounding from the shock. “Be careful!”  
  
Immediately, Hugo tears up. “I was just practising being a monkey,” he mumbles quietly. “I want to do good when we go to the zoo.”  
  
“You’re just _looking_ at monkeys, not acting like them,” Nicky huffs.  
  
“You’re going to the zoo?” Neil asks.  
  
🧦  
  
“We’re going to the zoo!” Nicky yells excitedly at the car filled with hobbits and Hugo.  
  
Taylee, Stephen and Hugo yell back excitedly, but the little kid that had to ride with them, Ava, is quietly staring out the window. Maybe she doesn’t know the others super well.  
  
“What animals are you most excited for?” Nicky asks.  
  
They all answer at the same time because they’re kids.  
  
“Monkeys!” Hugo.  
  
“Giraffes!” Stephen.  
  
“Sharks!” Taylee.  
  
Nicky laughs. “Okay, okay. And what about you, Ava?”  
  
Her voice is a mere whisper that barely rises above the car’s engine. “Elephants.”  
  
“_Oh_, the big ones with the large ears, right?” Nicky asks, because he’ll do anything to make her talk, even sound like a complete animal noob.  
  
“Uh-huh,” Ava whispers.  
  
“Elephants are cool,” Stephen says. “But they’re not as big as giraffes!”  
  
“Nothing is as big as giraffes,” Hugo says.  
  
“Not true,” Taylee says. “Whales are bigger.”  
  
“Yeah but those don’t count because they’re underground,” Stephen says.  
  
Hugo twists around in his seat. “You mean _underwater_.”  
  
And that’s basically how they spend the 15 minute ride to the zoo: arguing about whose favourite animal is better.  
  
Meanwhile, Nicky knows he won’t be looking at _any_ of the animals today.  
  
🧦  
  
Unless you count the seal on Erik’s shirt.  
  
_SEAL OF APPROVAL_   
it says.  
  
“Ha,”  
Nicky says.  
  
“You’re the first one who gets it,”  
Erik says.  
  
“Monkeys, monkeys, monkeys!”  
Hugo yells.  
  
And he’s not the only one who’s excited.  
It’s the first class trip of the year, and you can tell by the way the kids can’t seem to stand still for more than a minute.  
  
Erik already divided the parent-kids groups and a few of the other parents, fathers this time too, are starting to call the names of the kids that are in their group.  
  
Nicky knows he should too, but… Erik’s wearing a light blue shirt with a seal on it.  
Come on.  
  
“Do you have a collection of animal shirts?” Nicky asks, unable to keep the smile from his face. Especially since Erik looks kind of sheepish.   
  
“I know I’m an adult… But I just think they’re cute. And the kids love them.”  
  
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love them too.”  
  
Erik ducks his head, like he’s slightly embarrassed. “I hoped you would. I know you liked the frog shirt.”  
  
_He noticed?_  
  
Nicky forces himself not to freak out.  
  
“I mean, now I’m not sure which I like more,” Nicky jokes. “Maybe you just shouldn’t wear shirts anymore.”  
  
Erik’s eyes widen slightly.  
And it’s then that Nicky realizes what he’s said.  
  
“I mean, you should wear shirts around the kids!” he says quickly. “You don’t have to wear them around me is all I’m saying.” _Fuck_. “Is _not_ what I’m saying! I might be gay, but I’m not _that_ desperate, hahah.” _NO_. “Fuck, no, that’s not—Even though you’re attractive, I’m not going to ask you to take off your shirt or anything, unless you want to—”  
  
“We’ve got all the groups together,” a parent says, walking up to Erik. “We also did a headcount and we’re not missing anyone, but you’re free to recount.”  
  
“Thanks,” Erik says, but his eyes are still on Nicky, wide and surprised.  
  
When the parent is gone, Nicky has enough brain cells left, the ones who haven’t just died from embarrassment, to know he needs to take a step away from Erik’s beautiful face.  
  
“_So_. Gonna get my group together.” Nicky shuffles back. “Enjoy the zoo!”  
  
“Nicky, wait,” Erik calls after him, but Nicky _can’t_.  
  
His stomach is a whirlwind of regret and shame,   
because he doesn’t want to fuck up whatever him and Erik are slowly but surely building,  
and he doesn’t want Erik to think anything bad of him.  
  
“Are you okay?” Hugo asks, when Nicky walks up to him.  
  
It’s so sweet that Nicky feels tears welling up.  
He blinks them away.  
  
“If you help me get our group together, I will be.”  
  
🧦  
  
Surrounded by hyper kids, colourful displays, and lazy animals,  
Nicky makes a decision.  
  
He’s going to leave Erik alone from now on.  
It doesn’t mean he’s not going to talk to him anymore, even though that would probably be the wisest decision because Nicky’s mouth can’t be trusted, but it means he’s not going to actively try to get into the pants of Hugo’s teacher.  
  
Nicky digs his phone out of his pocket and snaps a photo of Hugo staring at the monkeys.  
  
“Hugo! Do you know what monkeys are called in Spanish?”  
  
Hugo turns around and smiles at the camera. “Los monos!”  
  
_Click!_ says Nicky’s phone.  
It’s an adorable photo, and Nicky knows he’s going to print it as a polaroid and hang it on the polaroid wall in the hallway.  
  
Before he can say anything, Stephen elbows Hugo in the side and points to their left. “Look! It’s Casey and Dora.”  
  
Nicky has no idea who those hobbits are, but still, _Dora?_   
Way to subject your kid to years of teasing.  
  
“Don’t get too far,” he calls after Stephen and Hugo as they run towards the other group.  
  
For once, Nicky doesn’t bother looking which parent it is.   
He’s safe either way, because Margaret had a family thing and couldn’t make it for once.   
The resignation and disappointment in her voice when she told Erik was _so awesome_.  
  
He stands next to Ava and watches the monkeys jump around.  
  
“They have it easy, huh,” Nicky says to Ava.  
  
“Jealous of the monkeys?” Ava asks in a deep manly voice that isn’t her voice at all.  
  
Nicky’s head snaps to the side  
and he looks right into Erik’s blue eyes.  
  
But that means…  
  
“Where’s Ava?”  
  
Erik points behind him, where his group and Nicky’s group are mingling, their little faces lit up with excitement.  
_Thank god_.  
It would be just like Nicky to lose his group before the end of the day.  
  
Nicky leans his arms on the low wall surrounding the monkey’s habitat and stares at a couple of monkeys fight over a piece of lettuce.  
  
“Yeah, I’m kind of jealous,” he says. “Monkeys, heck all animals, got it figured out. They have their biology telling them what to do. They don’t have all the stupid extra shit we humans do, you know?”   
  
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying.” Erik joins him, his arm brushing against Nicky’s. Goosebumps raise on Nicky’s arm. “Being a human can be confusing.”  
  
“Right? It’s like, oh, your nephews’ mother died and you don’t want them to end up in foster care, so you adopt them. It’s like, oh, your best friends died in a car crash and their kid will end up in foster care because no one wants to take care of the kid from gay parents, so you adopt him because that’s what’s right. That’s what they would’ve wanted. And then you’re 26 with a young kid and a full-time job and basically you don’t have a single moment alone anymore, but shit, you still feel so fucking alone sometimes.”  
  
Nicky takes a deep breath that sounds too broken to belong in a zoo with happy people everywhere.  
  
Erik’s hand settles on Nicky’s arm.  
  
“Sorry,” Nicky says. “That was too much.”   
  
“It’s also seeing your family once every three years, if even that,” Erik says softly. “It’s leaving behind everything you know, it’s leaving behind the people in life that know you best. It’s living in a country with so many people and yet having so little people to talk to. It’s missing the little things, and they quickly become the big things. It’s knowing dubbed movies suck big time and yet I still miss those awful German voice-overs.”  
  
Nicky laughs.  
  
Erik’s blue eyes are watching him with such an open expression that Nicky feels the air between them change. His laugh dies out quickly.  
  
“Thank you, Nicky,” Erik says, his hand tightening briefly on Nicky’s arm. “For telling me. I’m sorry your life has been so hard.”  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Nicky says quietly, unable to take his eyes off the warmth in Erik’s eyes.  
  
He wants Erik to look at him like this forever,  
wants Erik to keep telling him about his life,   
about which shitty dubbed movies he’s watched,  
wants, wants, _wants_.  
  
And his eyes must show all the thoughts running through his mind,  
and his body must respond to the rhythm of want thrumming through Nicky,  
because Erik sucks in a deep breath  
and then pulls  
away.  
  
Everything in Nicky _hurts  
_and he’s so angry at himself for immediately abandoning his resolve to stop wanting Erik.  
  
But Erik’s looking around, almost hurriedly, and then he takes off towards another group that’s just entering the monkey area.  
  
Nicky watches the way the light catches his blond hair,   
then tears his gaze away and pushes himself away from the wall.  
  
He needs to have a good time with Hugo.  
_That’s_ what’s important right now.  
  
He’s a father,  
there’s just no time for himself anymore, not when he’s responsible for—  
  
A hand grabs his own  
and spins him around.  
  
It’s Erik.  
Wide-eyed and slightly panting.  
  
“Let’s go,” he says, and then releases Nicky’s hand again, expecting him to follow as he takes off to the nearest restaurant.  
  
“Erik, wait!” Nicky calls after him, but Erik’s not stopping and so Nicky follows. “What about the kids?”  
  
Erik walks through the restaurant and straight to the restroom,  
and Nicky is getting a little concerned.  
  
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice echoing off the white and green tiles.  
  
In response, Erik grabs his hand again,  
but more surely this time,   
like he doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.  
  
“Yeah,” Erik says, almost breathlessly, and then he pulls Nicky into a stall.  
  
Nicky’s mind has a second to think  
_what the fuck  
_and his heart has a second to stop beating  
before kicking into overdrive as Erik’s hands slip into Nicky’s hair, tilt his head up, and hold him still as Erik leans in and kisses him.  
  
Nicky freezes completely.  
  
Not because the kiss is unwanted,  
definitely not,  
but because his mind is having trouble figuring out what the fuck is going on.  
There must be another reason why he can feel Erik’s lips against his own, because it sure as hell can’t be that Erik is actually into Nicky;   
so much so,  
that he dragged him away from the _kids_ and into a _restroom_ just so he could kiss him.  
  
And then it clicks,  
and it all makes sense,  
and fuck.

Nicky feels his shoulders sag.  
  
Erik’s a good guy; when he heard Nicky's sob story, he probably wanted to make him feel better.  
  
“Erik,” Nicky says, turning his head away. “You don’t need to do this. I’m happy with my life, with the way it is, and—”  
  
“Oh,” Erik says. After a moment, he nods, like he understands something.  
  
“Yeah.” Nicky smiles sadly. “It’s really sweet of you to, uh, offer though.”   
  
Erik ducks his head. “Uh, you’re welcome?”  
  
God, he looks so cute.  
  
Nicky wants to lean in and kiss him,  
kiss him back for real this time.  
  
But he doesn’t.  
Because pity fucks aren’t what Nicky wants in life.  
Not even from handsome mountain men with frog shirts.  
  
🧦  
  
When his phone rings again,  
Nicky knows he can’t not answer it.  
  
“Hi,” he says.  
  
He sounds tired, even to his own ears.  
  
“I’m listening,” is what Allison says.  
  
Nicky doesn’t need to ask how she knows.  
She knows because she can read it in his texts, can see it in his behaviour, and can now hear it in his voice,  
in this single, sad, _ hi_.  
  
And Nicky doesn’t want to tell her.  
It’s awkward, and sad, and doesn’t make for a great phone call conversation.  
  
“I can hear you thinking, so I’ll tell you now. If you don’t tell me, I’ll drive over to your house and we’ll rewatch old Sex and the City episodes, I’ll get you drunk and _ then _ you’ll tell me.”  
  
Nicky can feel tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ll take the latter, please.”  
  
🧦  
  
True to her word, Allison shows up at his front door with a bottle of wine and the dvd box set of Sex and the City.  
  
They settle on the sofa together, their legs under the same throw, and it takes Nicky two episodes and one glass before he tells her everything.  
Tells her about his resolve,  
and how Erik absolutely shattered it by being so open and vulnerable,  
by pulling Nicky into a toilet stall,  
by softly threading his hands through Nicky’s hair and kissing him just as softly.  
  
“And the worst thing is,” Nicky sighs, “that I have to be alone with him this Friday. It’s another parent-teacher night thing.”   
  
Allison watches him for a few seconds, then she slaps his legs and gets up. “Let’s pick your outfit. Right now.”  
  
“What?”   
  
“I know you’re going to stress about it for days, so let’s get that out of the way first. We’re gonna make you look fantastic.”  
  
“I don’t know, doesn’t make it seem like I want the pity fuck after all?”  
  
“No,” Allison says, pulling on his arm and dragging him off the couch. “And stop calling it a pity fuck. I still think he wants your ass.”  
  
“You’re wrong,” Nicky whines as he lets himself be dragged upstairs.  
  
They tiptoe to his room, because Hugo is sleeping, but when Nicky closes the door behind them, Allison throws open his closet.  
  
“Say what you want, but you’ve always had the worst instinct when it comes to love and yourself.”  
  
Nicky lets himself fall on the bed.  
It’s his favourite place to mourn his love life.  
  
“_Aha_,” Allison says. “Found it.”   
  
Before Nicky can ask, _ what_, a heavy dark piece of clothing hits him in the face.  
  
“Hey!” he shouts, but it sounds muffled, so he pulls the offending fabric off and sits up.  
  
Of course it’s the dark jeans.  
The ones that make his butt look good and his legs super long.  
  
“You’re gonna wear this with a white T, and you’re gonna style your hair just so, and even if Erik won’t be all over you, I promise you everyone else will,” Allison declares.  
  
She has her game face on,  
which means Nicky can’t say no.  
  
🧦  
  
So he doesn’t.  
He listens, and puts on the outfit she picked out for him.  
  
He looks at himself in the mirror and has to agree that he looks _ good_.  
Like, really good.   
He did good buying those jeans.  
  
When he gets downstairs, he’s greeted by the sight of Andrew and Hugo building what looks like a castle. Neil is in the kitchen making coffee, but his eyes are glued to Andrew.  
  
“Okay,” Nicky says. “Wish me luck, guys.”  
  
Andrew looks Nicky over.  
He nods.  
  
“You don’t need luck when you look like that,” he says, which is a very much needed confidence boost that nearly makes Nicky tear up again.  
  
“I can make you a coffee to go,” Neil offers.  
  
“Nah, that’s not going to help my nerves,” Nicky says. “But thanks. Okay, so, uh. I’ll be back?”   
  
Hugo waves. “Have fun with Mr. Erik.”   
  
_ If only_.  
  
🧦  
  
The double doors of Hugo’s school look almost imposing in the evening;  
though it could easily be night,   
the sky a deep darkness that promises shorter days and longer nights and bulky winter coats.  
  
“You don’t have anything to lose,” Nicky whispers to himself.  
  
A total lie.  
But oh well, that’s what it means to be human, right?  
  
Taking a deep breath, Nicky pushes the doors open and marches through the hallway.  
  
He remembers the first parent-teacher evening with Erik.  
He remembers especially how he cried in front of him.  
Yikes.  
  
But nothing awkward or embarrassing is going to happen tonight, Nicky vows to himself.  
He stops in front of Hugo’s classroom door.  
He’s just going to have an adult conversation with Erik about his son, Hugo, then he’ll drive home, where a tub of ice cream is waiting for him.  
  
Right.  
  
The classroom door opens,  
and there’s Erik,  
looking cute and mountain man-y in his flannel shirt, khaki pants and brown leather boots.  
  
“No animal shirt?” Nicky asks, before he can help himself.  
  
Erik doesn’t respond.  
He’s staring at Nicky with a faint blush on his cheeks, eyes travelling over Nicky’s chest down to his legs, and... lingering there.  
  
It’s like a match,   
Erik’s gaze.  
  
It burns wherever it touches Nicky,  
and the flames quickly spread  
until his entire body feels hot.  
  
Nicky’s throat is dry as he asks, “Erik?”  
  
Erik’s eyes snap up. “Oh, uh, yeah, yes, come in.”  
  
When Nicky walks past Erik, trying to hide his shaking hands, he can feel Erik’s gaze on him, burning through him.  
  
The store should’ve warned him the jeans were flammable.  
  
The classroom door closes and Nicky sits down in front of the desk,  
and Erik sits down behind the desk.  
They stare at each other,  
both aware of the sudden tension.  
  
“Nicky,” Erik starts. “I’d like to apologise for my behaviour at the zoo. It was—”  
  
“That’s alright,” Nicky says quickly.  
  
“—not what you deserved.”  
  
_ What? _  
  
“What?”  
  
“It wasn’t what you deserved, a kiss in a random restroom.” Erik looks down at his hands. “You deserve a silent kiss underneath the stars, a dramatic kiss in the soaking rain, and a sweet kiss at your front door after a successful date.” Erik looks up again, hands gesturing animatedly like he’s getting worked up. “And even though you don’t want a relationship, which I respect, I still should’ve asked you out. I should’ve aimed for those kisses, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”  
  
The classroom is quiet.  
  
Nicky gapes at Erik in shock.   
  
“Excuse me?” he says, after his world has stopped spinning. “You want a—a relationship?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
_ Now hold the fuck up_.  
  
“But. But you kissed me because you felt sorry for me!”  
  
Erik looks confused. “What? I didn’t.”  
  
“Yeah, you did.” Nicky leans forward. “I told you my sob story, told you how lonely I felt, and so of course you felt sorry for me because you’re the nicest person I know. And then. Well, that’s why you kissed me.”  
  
Erik looks like Nicky slapped him.  
Like he told him he’s secretly a secret agent.  
  
“That’s not why,” Erik says. “That’s absolutely not why I kissed you.”  
  
_ But_.  
  
“Then why?”   
  
The faint blush on Erik’s cheeks looks very cute. “Because I couldn’t not kiss you. I’ve been holding back for weeks.”  
  
Nicky’s eyebrows fly up. “No way.”  
  
“It’s true.”  
  
“But _ I’ve _ been pining for you for months!”  
  
It takes a few seconds for Nicky’s words to sink in,  
but when they do,   
a big smile spreads on Erik’s face.  
  
“You have?”  
  
_ Adorable_.  
  
“Yeah,” Nicky says. He leans back in his chair and stares at Erik; at his honey blond hair, his blue eyes and goofy grin.  
  
It seems too good to be true.   
Nicky can’t believe—  
He can’t.  
How can someone like Erik fall for someone like him?  
  
But the way Erik looks at him right now  
makes it very hard to deny it.  
  
Nicky’s heart pounds wildly in his chest.  
He’s suddenly aware that all his fantasies  
could actually become reality.  
  
_ Calm down_.  
  
“Shouldn’t we talk about Hugo?” Nicky asks quietly.  
  
“We should,” Erik says, but he sounds distracted. 

Nicky can see Erik’s eyes linger again, travelling down Nicky’s body so slowly it feels like he’s actually touching him.  
  
Nicky swallows.  
Erik’s eyes watch that too.  
  
And Nicky thinks,  
_ fuck this_.  
  
“We could also make out on your desk,” Nicky suggests casually.  
  
Erik nods. “We should.”   
  
Silence.  
  
Nicky’s hands twitch,  
and Erik’s foot shifts,  
and then they’re both reaching over the desk for each other; Erik’s hands in Nicky’s hair, pulling him closer, Nicky’s hands fisted in Erik’s flannel shirt and _ pulling_.  
  
Both pulling, pulling, pulling,  
like they want to climb all over each other.  
  
Which.  
Climb.  
Good idea, horny brain.  
  
Nicky pushes Erik down on the desk, moaning into the kiss when he feels Erik’s muscles beneath his hands, and climbs on top of him.  
  
“Fuck, Nicky,” Erik mumbles into his mouth, hands roving all over Nicky’s back then slipping underneath Nicky’s shirt.  
  
The kiss is frantic,  
and not careful at all.  
  
It’s horny and desperate and _ needy_.  
  
Erik’s dick is pressing against Nicky’s ass,  
Erik's tongue is in Nicky’s mouth,  
and Erik's hands are pulling Nicky’s shirt off  
and Nicky is loving every fucking second of it.  
  
But what he perhaps loves the most  
is the moment his shirt comes off,  
because when his world is once again filled with the sight of Erik’s beautiful face,  
Erik is staring at him.  
  
It’s a moment to catch his breath,  
yet Nicky can’t breathe at the adoration he sees in Erik’s eyes.  
  
“You’re so beautiful,” Erik sighs.  
  
Feeling shy, Nicky leans his head against Erik’s shoulder. “Not as beautiful as you are,” he mumbles.  
  
“I didn’t know it was a contest.”  
  
“It’s not. I can never win.”  
  
“Nicky, my breath catches every morning when I see you.”  
  
Erik says it so matter-of-factly,  
like he didn’t just commit a murder.  
  
“I called you mountain man in my head,” Nicky blurts out, because he can’t be held responsible for his mouth when he’s feeling so overwhelmed.  
  
Erik’s quiet.  
  
Then his frame starts shaking,  
quietly at first,  
until he’s laughing so loudly and infectiously that Nicky can’t help but laugh too.  
  
Still smiling, Erik leans back and gently brushes a strand of hair out of Nicky’s face. “Go on a date with me.”  
  
“Okay,” Nicky smiles back.  
  
This time, it’s only Erik who leans closer,   
slowly,  
and presses his lips against Nicky’s.   
And this time, their kiss is slower too,  
less like a flamethrower and more like a small candle.  
  
They take their time kissing,  
Erik’s mouth soft and warm,  
just like his hands as they roam over Nicky’s naked back.  
  
Nicky shivers.  
  
“Sorry,” Erik mumbles, leaning back. “You’re cold.”  
  
Nicky quickly presses a kiss on the tip of Erik’s nose. “Nah.”  
  
Erik smiles dreamily up at Nicky.  
Nicky’s stomach swoops at the sight.  
  
“This was one of my fantasies,” Nicky confesses, pressing a small kiss on Erik’s cheek. And another. “Making out on your desk.”   
  
“Oh?” Erik turns his head and catches Nicky’s lips before he can kiss his cheek. “I’m glad I can make your dreams come true.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Nicky smiles. “That was super cheesy, I love it.”   
  
Erik’s also smiling as he presses another kiss on Nicky’s lips,  
and it’s wonderful,  
and it’s equally as wonderful when their smiles turn into gasps and moans as their kisses turn heated again.  
  
Erik grabs Nicky securely before turning their position around.

When Nicky’s back hits the desk and he sees Erik above him, flannel shirt half-undone, blonde hair messy and cheeks flushed,  
he thinks that life couldn’t get any better than this.  
  
But he’s wrong.  
So wrong.  
  
Because  
Erik lowers his body on top of Nicky’s and their dicks press against each other,  
and Nicky _ curses _ his jeans because they’re still on his body—rude—but Erik seems to be thinking the same thing because suddenly they’re both hastily undoing their flies.  
  
Because  
Erik places hot open-mouthed kisses on Nicky’s neck and chest while Nicky tries in vain to push down both their pants at the same time.  
  
Because  
the classroom door suddenly opens   
and an all too familiar voice squeaks,  
“_What the fuck are you doing, Nicky Hemmick_?”  
  
Of all the people to have their parent-teacher talk after Nicky,  
of course it had to be Margaret.  
  
“Shit,” Erik mumbles, quickly moving back.  
  
But Nicky,   
oh no, no, no.  
  
Nicky lazily turns on his side,   
fly open and dick almost out,  
and smiles at Margaret.  
  
“Can’t you tell? I’m fucking Erik.”  
  
And to rub it all in,  
literally,  
Nicky casually brushes a hand down Erik’s naked stomach.  
  
Erik gasps,  
and Margaret gasps,  
and Nicky _ basks_.  
  
Margaret’s face turns red and outraged. It complements her beige clothes very well.  
Then, without a word, she turns on her heel and slams the door behind her.  
  
“This is the best night of my life,” Nicky says.  
  
“I’m gonna be in trouble,” Erik mumbles.  
  
And…  
Shit.  
  
“I didn’t realise,” Nicky says, shocked. He quickly turns to Erik. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise… Of course she’s going to tell the principal, because she’s evil. Fuck, your job...”  
  
“Yeah,” Erik says. He runs a hand through his hair then looks down at Nicky, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Though I must say, this was the _ best _ way for her to find out.”  
  
And when he grins at Nicky,  
Nicky knows he has to marry this man now.  
  
🧦  
  
Nicky _ loves _ listening to music while he cooks.  
It’s the perfect excuse to shake his body and loosen his muscles and… loosen his everything basically.  
  
The catchy tune drifts through the living room to the kitchen,   
and Nicky hums along as he adds a little more seasoning to the ground beef.  
  
The sound of Hugo playing with his Lego is a nice little addition to the symphony going on in the Hemmick household, which is shortly interrupted by the beeping of the oven as it’s done preheating.  
  
After Nicky has made the enchiladas and sprinkled them with cheese, he puts them in the oven. This is the part he doesn’t like.  
Waiting for them to be done.  
  
His stomach gives a low growl in anticipation, so Nicky quickly grabs a cracker from the counter before making his way over to the living room.  
Making his way over to Hugo and Erik.  
  
Erik’s sitting on the couch with his guitar, quietly singing, and Hugo is on the ground, trying to build a car.  
  
“Just twenty more minutes or something,” he announces, then plops down next to Erik.  
  
This close, he recognizes the soft tunes of a song he knows too well.  
  
“_Somebody said you got a new friend, _ ” Erik sings quietly. “_Does she love you better than I can? _ ”  
  
It’s enchanting to hear the pop tune stripped of everything but a voice and a melody.  
But it’s more enchanting to hear Erik sing,  
to watch him, his eyes slightly closed as he pours more than words into the song.  
  
“_I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the guy you’re taking home, oh. I keep dancing on my own._”  
  
Maybe it’s the loneliness they both know so well,  
but the song makes Nicky’s heart clench.  
  
He leans against Erik and presses a kiss against his cheek. “I took you home though,” he whispers.  
  
Erik smiles and turns his face to kiss Nicky softly.   
It’s a little difficult with the guitar between them, so Erik puts it away, then takes Nicky’s face in his hands and kisses him again.  
And again.  
  
They’re soft little kisses,  
because they’re both aware of Hugo sitting just a few feet away.  
  
Luckily, Hugo thought it was the best thing ever when Nicky told him he was dating Erik. He said he liked Erik first, so he didn’t mind that Nicky liked him too.  
Which didn’t make a lot of sense to Nicky, but Hugo seemed satisfied and proud.  
  
Surprisingly, the school didn’t seem to mind either.  
It could have something to do with the fact that they heard it from Erik first. 

The morning after their makeout session on the desk, Erik was in the principal’s office at, like, 7, explaining to her that he would like to date one of his student’s parents and if that was alright with them.  
It was.  
  
Nicky suspects the principal had a hard time saying no to Erik because the man is too nice and handsome for his own good.  
  
Erik plays a few more songs on his guitar while Nicky stares at him with a dreamy smile on his face, and then the oven pings.

Suddenly, Nicky’s stomach remembers it was hungry because it growls loudly.  
  
“I think I hear it’s time for dinner,” Erik says with a smile. “What do you say, Hugo?”  
  
“Enchiladas!” Hugo exclaims, and runs towards the dinner table.  
  
“He doesn’t have those manners from me,” Nicky says.  
  
While he takes the delicious smelling food out of the oven, Erik quickly sets the table.  
It’s all so homey and cosy and _ wonderful_,  
that Nicky’s throat feels tight and his eyes are burning.  
  
“So these are the famous enchiladas,” Erik says, as Nicky sets his plate in front of him.  
  
“It’s your pay for the music,” Nicky jokes. “So you better savour them.”  
  
Erik pretends to be heartbroken. “And here I thought you just wanted my company.”  
  
And the words shouldn’t sound so super serious,  
but somehow they do,  
they do  
because Nicky really means it.  
  
“That too,” he says.   
  
Erik looks at him and knows what Nicky means. He reaches over and intertwines their fingers. “Then I guess I’ll stay a while.”   
  
“Or forever,” Hugo says, his mouth full.  
  
Erik looks at Hugo in surprise,   
before turning to Nicky.  
  
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Nicky grins. “I didn’t say it.”  
  
_ But I sure as fuck thought it. _  
  
Erik smiles at him. “They say children repeat what their parents say.”  
  
“Really? _ Pffsh_. Sounds like bull if you ask me. No idea what you’re talking about.” When Erik continues to smile knowingly, Nicky waves him away awkwardly. “Go eat your enchiladas.”   
  
They all dig in,  
and Nicky watches in satisfaction as Erik’s eyes turn big. “This is so good!”  
  
Nicky also takes a bite, and, yeah.  
It was definitely worth the wait.  
  
🧦

**Author's Note:**

> And now they're in the Erik phase  
Which I don't think Nicky will ever get out of ♡
> 
> WOW, it's been a while since I uploaded an aftg fic, and I super enjoyed writing for the fandom again. I should start working on a new andreil fic..... ANYWAY.  
If you want to know more about what I'm currently writing, you can follow me on tumblr (idnis) or twitter (idnis9)! You don't have to, obviously!
> 
> Thank you so so so much for reading!!


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